


Someone we don't fool

by MissingMissFisher (bokchoynomad)



Series: Double 0 Phrack: Fern & Archie's Undercover Murder Mysteries [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Murder Mystery, Romantic Angst, Secret Identity, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9862067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokchoynomad/pseuds/MissingMissFisher
Summary: “Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don’t fool.”― Robert BraultLady Detective Phryne Fisher is hired by an art and antiques dealer friend to look into a case that happens to coincide with an international smuggling case involving Egyptian antiquities. She goes undercover to investigate during a premier antiques exhibit at a large estate home, only to run into Mr andMrsArchibald Jones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set not too long after S2 x 7, Blood at the Wheel, I was inspired to (very loosely) base my story on a real-life Interpol one. My version also includes a dead body because it stars Phryne and Jack after all! 
> 
> Also, since this is my first attempt at a case fic, please do suspend your logic and forgive me for any crazy plot holes! 
> 
> As usual, huge thanks to my dear kindred spirit writing sister, @comeaftermejackrobinson, for all her incredible encouragement, input, and patience as I worked through this story! And mega thanks to @firesign for giving me the inspiration for this twist of the "undercover married" trope!

“Just you leave it all to me, Alfie,” the Honourable Phryne Fisher beamed her confident smile across to her elaborately-coiffured guest slumped dramatically over the edge of one of her parlour chairs. “I’ll certainly try to get to the bottom of this.”

“Well, one can certainly hope, old thing,” her friend responded gloomily in his Cambridge-clipped tones. “Otherwise, I’ll be ruined. Utterly ruined!” He began to pick absent-mindedly at his tiepin bearing what Phryne guessed to be his family’s crest.

Lord James Alfred “Alfie” Asquith, Viscount Severn, leaned forward suddenly to gain more composure, briefly burying his long face into his hands without messing his perfectly groomed locks. The youngest son of the Earl and Countess of Sussex, Alfie had fled from his gilded cage to pursue his passion for ancient antiquities, especially ones from Egypt.

The viscount was currently in Melbourne to attend one of the world’s most prestigious antiques fairs. “What on earth would the police know about the significance of these treasures? I’ve collected them from upstanding vendors for years, but the way they have been going on about it, one would think I had stolen them from a pharaoh’s tomb myself! The press would go simply mad if they discovered any of this!”

Phryne leaned over to pat his arm before springing up smartly. “There are still a few noble officers of the law about, Alfie.”

She tried not to think about her staunch avoidance to all things relating to Egyptian antiques now, hoping her move to refill their drinks would mask the panic fighting to rise inside her chest.

“I do believe the fair’s premier opening night is tomorrow? As you can surmise, I’m more a connoisseur of nouveau art and such. So, I haven’t paid as much attention to the antiques side of things as Aunt Prudence and the rest of you would like.” She whirled her hand half-heartedly towards her latest requisitions gracing the teal walls surrounding them.

Alfie glanced up absent-mindedly as he took a tentative sip from his glass. “Yes, that’s right. At the Edlington estate just outside the city. Leave it all to me, I can arrange for an exclusive invitation, my dear. Only a select few are being invited to stay for the entire weekend”

“Hmm, as delightful as that sounds, I somehow think something less flamboyant might suit our purposes better. Let me sleep on it, and I will work out the details and inform you before tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you, my dear, you know how to reach me. I’m relieved beyond measure to know that you will be about at the exhibit. I cannot afford another scandal with the police showing up and confiscating my beauties again like last time!” He slumped back against the chair, giving up on a lifetime of breeding to linger in his current anguish. “Making me look like a common swindler!”

“I shall telephone later to confirm my plans, Alfie.” She winked conspiratorially at her long-suffering friend who eventually managed to bring himself to his feet. “Expect me tomorrow sometime at the Edlingtons. Just not as myself.”

Encouraged by her agreement to assist him, Alfie bowed dramatically with a light kiss to her hand, instinctively reflecting the impeccably gallant gentleman the world usually saw.

“I’m deeply indebted to you, Phryne,” he managed a small smile that barely manifested through the cloud of melancholy draped over his being. He then turned to follow her towards the front hall where Mr Butler already stood waiting with his lordship’s hat and outer coat.

After seeing him out, Phryne refilled her glass from the decanter on the side and plopped onto her window seat. She leaned her head against the window frame, finally allowing the agitation that had been gathering deep down inside her to spill out. Swirling the golden liquid around, she wished for the thousandth time in the past few weeks that she could run through the mushrooming thoughts inside her head with her favourite partner in solving crimes.

A case like this nearly tempted her to go put her customary call through to City South Station. But, it had been nearly a month now without any calls to and from that direction, except between dear Dot and Hugh, of course. At first, she had still tried to ring after they had solved Gertie’s murder because she could still convince herself it wasn’t true. But poor Hugh’s constantly awkward attempts to inform her that the inspector was unavailable soon registered the reality of their last parting.

It would seem that Jack Robinson had indeed given her up. That he had given up on _them_.

Ignoring the unwelcome twinges deep down inside at the thought, Phryne fought to focus her energy on coming up with the perfect disguise for her new case.

 _After all, even Cleopatra was perfectly capable of ruling an entire empire on her own_.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ah, Mr Jones, so good of you to join us this weekend,” the cultured voice oozed with the type of insincere greeting that usually made his skin crawl. “I do hope there will be something to tempt you this evening.”

Schooling his emotions and expression, millionaire business magnate “Archibald Jones” turned to take the ruby-laden hand of his host, Lady Portia Edlington.

“I dare say that won’t be far from reality,” he charmingly agreed whilst doing his best to professionally ignore his inner irritation at the woman’s innuendo. “There are many beautiful treasures to delve into around me.”

 _Did you really just say that, Jack Robinson?_ He inwardly berated himself. _I’m starting to lose all self-respect_. The fact that he was forced to go undercover for this case didn’t help him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel even worst because he wasn’t as keen on his assigned cover story this time around.

“You must be certain to _ascertain_ the merit of as many as you can, Mr Jones. Do let me know if you would prefer a _very_ detailed and _personal_ tour.”

“Thank you, I shall take that into consideration, Lady Edlington. For now, if you would be so good to excuse me, I believe I’d like to take another opportunity to explore the main exhibits in your ballroom.”

Deftly manoeuvring away before the haughty woman could reach out to trail her red polished finger across his evening jacket, Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson twisted on the heel of his newly polished formal shoes. Calling on years of experience, he deliberately forced himself to adapt a dignified and intentional stroll. When in reality, he was tempted to sprint towards the ballroom showcasing the priceless antiques being exhibited during the gala premier opening night.

 _Just be glad that no one you knew had to witness that disgusting display_ , he chided himself. Most of all, he was secretly relieved that _she_ hadn’t been privy to that latest exchange.

Although, if she had, it would have been something she would have delighted in teasing him about later whilst exchanging their theories over their customary nightcap.

He briefly slowed his brisk pace to compose himself. And to stop his traitorous train of thought and focus on the case at hand. To figure out who was smuggling thousands of priceless Egyptian antiquities by attempting to pass them off as high-end reproductions.

It had just escalated into a high-profiled global case following the mysterious death of an American senator at a recent and similar antiquities show in New York City. Unfortunately, the lead suspect managed to vanish along with several thousand more artefacts. The recently formed International Criminal Police Organisation (ICPO) had several strong leads suggesting that the suspect, of both the senator’s murder and smuggled treasures, might strike again now in Melbourne at the annual Melbourne Fair and its well-known antiquities festival.

The Australian Police still hadn’t yet become an official member, but were persuaded to assist ICPO by their British counterparts who just recently joined the global network in 1928. In many ways, it seemed a bit of a test run, and so the powers upon high had demanded that their top performing personnel be put on the case. He wasn’t sure whether to feel targeted or flattered when the new commissioner had summoned Jack and sent him undercover as a millionaire business tycoon for the case.

Before he could censor the unbidden sentiment, Jack wondered what Phryne would have thought about this case. Who was he kidding? She would have relished this particular undercover assignment. It had been too painfully quiet over the past few weeks. He actually had to restrain himself from dropping by her home to tell her all about it after being summoned by the Chief Commissioner.

He shook his head resolutely. He had had to make sure that _she_ was no longer part of his cases.

Or his thoughts.

Or his life.

It was much better this way.

 _No, it was much safer this way_ , he reluctantly reminded himself.

And now he was stuck on this wretched case being forced to mingle with those whose disdain towards those they deemed unworthy of their way of life curdled his insides. At least Phryne would have been able to help him feel like he could blend in much more effortlessly.

As though to punish him, he thought he could hear the distinct sound of her laugh mocking his thoughts right at that moment.

_Was there no escaping her?_

He rushed around a pillar whilst bringing up a large hand to smooth out his eyebrows, an unconscious reflex when he was feeling especially overwhelmed.

_Right, which way to the hors d’oevres again?_

In his agitation, he quickly rounded a marble structure. And found himself crashing right into the back of someone. Someone with elegantly upswept blonde hair whose very trim figure was draped in a demure, yet stunning gold evening dress.

Instinctively, he threw out his arms and gripped her arms just above the elbows to help slow his impact against her and prevent her from falling. An object she was holding flung out of her hands and scattered itself on the floor.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he managed to rasp out apologetically once they had both regained their balance. Before she could respond, he sheepishly bent down to retrieve the thick notebook that he had accidentally dislodged from her grasp. His keen observational skills instantly took in the peculiar markings across the pages that he recognised as shorthand.

After reaching up a hand to ensure his inopportune arrival hadn’t jarred the undoubtedly expensive diamond clip arranged in her hair, she watched him in stunned silence just as he quickly stood up. His apology died on his lips when his gaze seared directly into her enticing, yet startled eyes.

“Ah, Mr Jones! May I have the honour of introducing you to one of the Daily Telegraph’s top investigative journalists?”

Her conversation partner, Lord Edlington, eagerly made the introductions, not remotely bothered by his guests’ sudden mishap. “This is the exquisite, Miss Fern Robins! Miss Robins, please meet Mr Archibald Jones, one of our esteemed business partners and sponsors of our gala evening.”

She masterfully hid her surprised expression, and held out an inviting hand towards him.

“I happen to be quite fond of the name ‘Archie,’ actually,” she smiled at him with a teasing lift to her eyebrow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you here, Mr Jones. Are you an avid collector of Egyptian antiquities then?”

Before Jack could respond, he felt the rustling of another expensive gown clothing another lithe figure press against his side, its owner’s hand curling around his elbow possessively.

“Ah, perfect timing, my dear,” Lord Edlington declared in his bellowing voice. “And may I also present one of tonight’s most anticipated soloists, and Archibald’s beautiful wife, Mrs Jones.”

“Please, call me ‘Wanda,’” the attractive brunette’s glossy bobbed hair swung around her inviting smile as she draped closer across Jack’s chest to shake Fern’s hand.

Only Jack felt the hitch of Fern’s gasp before it was masked by the sound of her champagne flute shattering against the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amateur history sleuth within me was very much delighted to discover that Interpol’s predecessor was the International Criminal Police Organization (ICPO), which had formed in 1923. Following some hullaballoo that included being hijacked briefly by the Nazis, ICPO was eventually renamed Interpol after the Second World War.


	3. Chapter 3

“Would you like another, miss?”

“Why yes, thank you,” Phryne nodded absent-mindedly and reached out to accept the sparkling-filled crystal. She was about to take a quick sip when she glanced up into the most arresting eyes framed by a dark pair of spectacles that only enhanced his strong jawline. And steely black curls that seemed to hold a will of their own.

 _A little like someone else’s curls_. She mentally berated herself when the tall and handsome footman shifted his tray and gaze in the direction that both her traitorous mind and eyes had darted towards.

“Are you feeling well, miss?” His voice held genuine concern.

“Why, yes, I’m right as rain,” she responded quickly, forcing a smile whilst she righted herself from the pillar that had been supporting her weight.

“Are they friends of yours, miss? I can go offer them some refreshments as well once this set is done.” His eyes followed the direction of her quick glance, taking in the handsome couple swaying to the music not too far in the distance.

“Er, no, I only just met them this evening. Although, I suppose she _is_ wearing a most exquisite gown,” Phryne babbled on to hide her interest in the dancers. _This simply won’t do_ , _I’m seriously losing my touch_.

“Well, I wouldn’t know much about that, miss. But, she is certainly _very_ beautiful.” Phryne was delighted by the blush that bloomed on the Adonis’ fine cheekbones and his sudden discomfort at his slip.

“As are you, miss, of course. Though it’s not my place to comment, of course,” he gulped and tensed visibly when she trailed a perfectly manicured finger lightly down his jacket lapel.

 _Perhaps, all is not lost yet_ , she thought, redirecting her attention towards the man’s extremely broad shoulders.

“I heard she’s also a soloist and will be performing tonight.”

“Is that so?” she enquired in a more sultry tone.

“Yes, I believe so, miss,” he cleared his throat again whilst stepping away slightly, and bringing up his free hand to loosen the bow tie of his crisp uniform. She couldn’t help admiring how the action stretched and accentuated the material of his suit, especially around his solid-looking arms and shoulders. He tried to deflect her stare as it descended lower by glancing down at the notebook she held with her other hand.

“Now that looks interesting, miss. Are you a writer?”

 _Hmmm_ , _I definitely must be losing my touch if deliciously good-looking men are starting to avoid me._

“Why yes, I’m a journalist actually,” she simpered, tucking her notebook under her elbow to extend her hand. “Fern Robins, Daily Telegraph, at your service.”

“Why that’s wonderful, miss! You must have some remarkable stories to tell,” the footman crowed delightedly. “I will have to look out for your work.”

“Why, thank you, that is very kind of you,” Phryne was taken back by his enthusiasm. Most men did not feel a woman was cut out for hard news journalism…or investigating…or much else, she thought frustratingly.

Sensing the sudden shift in her mood, her conversation partner stepped back. “I really should be getting back to work now, miss. It was a real pleasure to speak with you. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Perhaps you can save me a set in your dance card,” she winked up at him as he blushed again before moving on with his balanced tray.

She gulped down the liquid from her glass and was about to head towards the exhibit area just as a hand lightly grasped her elbow from behind.

“Careful, _Miss Robins_ , or you might be responsible for the murder of not just one, but _two_ champagne glasses tonight.”

She paused without looking at him. “And you, _Archie_ , really need to stop sneaking up on me unawares tonight.”

“It takes two to tango.”

That brought her head around. “So, care to foxtrot instead? Or would that be potentially too awkward with your, erm…‘ _wife’_?”

“She’s currently otherwise occupied.”

The orchestra introduced the strains of a jazzy tune. A silky voice started humming into the microphone whilst trailing arms slid slowly up and down the sides of the singer’s silvery gown. The light began to reflect and wink against the expensive beads and sequence, matching the one coming from Wanda as her voice seduced the crowd from the stage.

Knowing the rare advantage of a speechless Phryne, Jack rescued the champagne flute and abandoned it on a side table before taking her other hand. He then swept her along into intricate box steps that matched the music’s rhythm.

“Why, Jack, you never told me you knew how to dance,” she purred into his ear, quickly trying to regain her inner equilibrium at yet another sudden turn of events. And trying not to react too quickly to the feel of his strong and warm hand guiding her body against his to the music.

“Why are you here, Phryne?” He pointedly queried when he sensed the turmoil she might have managed to mask from any one else who didn’t know her so well. He loosened his hold noticeably when she began to tense slightly at his question.

“I was asked by a client to come investigate a case,” she replied stiffly, not so subtly attempting to take over the lead. “Why are you here?”

_And with her?_

He spun her away from him briefly to gather his thoughts.

“I was asked by the Chief Commissioner to come investigate a case,” he smoothly replied after she had spun back into his arms. She noted the lack of any further details, and how he deftly avoided her unspoken question.

She swung back her head and to the side in time to the music, grateful for the opportunity to hide her dismay when she also recognised the sudden grimace in his look. It was the one that refused to reveal more than he needed to.

Especially to her.

It was one she had not seen for quite a while now. The realisation dug another post into the fence he had built to keep her out. It also chipped away slightly at her foundations more than she would ever care to admit.

Especially to him.

“Well, I hope your new partner investigates as well as she sings,” she quipped flippantly noting the tell-tale glint in his eyes at her response.

Before he could reply, an extremely high-pitched scream pierced through the air. A thunderous crash followed it, echoing throughout the room and immediately halting the orchestra and Wanda’s deep tones.

“Oh my god, someone’s in there!”

“Quick, somebody help! There’s a body in there!”

The initial cries were quickly drowned out by a collective uproar of shouts and screams.

Both Phryne and Jack stared at one another with wide eyes before turning in unison to rush towards the source of all the commotion.

 ****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a stickler for historical authenticity, I was extremely pleased to discover that the phrase _“It takes two to tango”_ was in fact accurate for this time period (especially as I really wanted to keep it in for Phryne and Jack’s bantering dialogue)! According to the American Heritage Dictionary, the “expression dates from the 1920s, when the Latin American tango became a very popular dance. It was popularized by the singer Pearl Bailey in her 1952 hit song of that name written by Al Hoffman and Dick Manning.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so humbled and chuffed by all the lovely and encouraging comments! Hope this will continue to keep you all intrigued enough to keep reading because the plot thickens...

 

The two detectives arrived back into the middle of the crowded ballroom just in time to be engulfed by the widespread sense of alarm emanating throughout the room. Again, both wordlessly glanced at one another before quickly searching through the commotion for the source of the upheaval.

As though pulled by the same current, they both managed to elbow their way through towards the far corner. This was where some of the larger artifacts and objects had been placed as a sort of backdrop to the smaller treasures nestled in various cases and on pillars.

Neatly side-stepping some of the more high-strung attendees, Phryne reached the edge of the throng gathered around what looked to be one of the larger sarcophagi now toppled over on its side.

Suddenly, Wanda appeared from behind one of the ornate columns, dropping her purse next to the ancient burial object’s jewel-encrusted and intricately painted lid. Phryne grudgingly admired the woman as she elegantly knelt down to retrieve it whilst surreptitiously glancing into the partly opened case. Even from where Phryne stood, it revealed an arm elegantly dressed in a fine dinner jacket.

Phryne intended to inch closer so she too could crouch down to take a peek inside when Wanda suddenly rushed right towards them. And straight into Jack’s arms with a muffled cry.

“Oh, _Archibald_ , what has happened? It’s _all_ so terrible!” she dramatically covered her face in a display of great anguish whilst hiding her head against his chest. Jack darted a fleeting, unreadable glance towards Phryne before gauging the reactions of those surrounding them whose attention had been drawn to Wanda’s sudden appearance and outburst. Not missing a step, he wrapped his arms around the other woman’s shaking shoulders in a great show of comforting his distraught wife, mumbling soothing tones against her hair.

Fighting a burst of feelings as she witnessed the rather intimate scene, Phryne inched away whilst chewing on the inside of her lip to clamp down the extremely unwelcome emotions invading her chest. She looked down at her now slightly battered notebook instead trying to focus.

She resolutely returned to her original intention of making her way towards the sarcophagus, trying to get a clearer view of the body. Even so, she couldn’t help glancing once over her shoulder as she willed her body to retreat. Jack’s magnetic gaze unwittingly pulled her eyes towards him.

She gave him the tiniest shrug so he couldn’t see her struggling to fight against whatever it was inside that was screaming for her to rush over to him and dislodge that woman from his arms. After all, it was _his_ bloody fault that they were forced to put up with this charade!

Rather hesitant to examine the oddly territorial feelings bubbling up insider her, she spotted Alfie and several other men trying to keep people away from the fallen coffin. He acknowledged her with a relieved smile as she approached.

“Miss Robins, isn’t it? I’m so glad to see that you’ve been able to make it tonight after all despite this ghastly kerfuffle,” his worried tone contrasted with his genial words.

“Of course, Lord Severn, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” she responded with her first genuine smile since she first spotted ( _and good god, actually danced with_ ) Jack. “What has happened?”

“From what I can tell, the musicale had started with the usual fanfare and all was proceeding along nicely until Portia, that is, Lady Edlington, screamed.” He gestured for Phryne to follow him towards the semi-privacy of a hanging tapestry and continued in a lower tone. Phryne produced her notebook to start taking notes and protecting her cover in case anyone should notice them.

“Apparently, she was in the far corner here making her closer acquaintance with someone,” he phrased it delicately.

“How very scandalous of her! Who was her, ah, ‘close acquaintance,’?

“I didn’t actually catch that part. Oh well, this was all according to ‘Toddy,’ this old chap whom the rest of us have only barely tolerated since our Eton days. He usually shows up at these things to hunt for so-called treasures and peddle goodness knows what in return,” he sniffed.

“However, I must grudgingly admit that he has managed to net the occasional stunning and authentic treasure. Anyway, he was just prattling on about it just now to another one of his flock of admirers.

“Interesting. I’ll have to introduce myself.”

“I suppose I ought to if we come across him tonight. Anyway, poor Portia, she’s only just arrived in Australia this month after her arranged marriage to his lordship in London three months ago.”

“So, she’s obviously no longer the blushing bride,” Phryne added sardonically.

“Right-oh, that. Well, according to Toddy, things had just gotten a bit more heated when she lost her balance and broke her heel. Bloody fools ended up nearly destroying that rather stunning royal beauty dating back at least three millennia judging from the angles of…”

He failed to notice Phryne’s pointed stare and tapping of her pen against the edge of the notebook.

“Yes, yes, Alfie, it’s definitely an extremely ancient artifact,” Phryne tried to hurry him up as she spotted Constable Hugh Collins and another two colleagues enter the ballroom and quickly approaching that side of the exhibit. “I do wonder though _who_ that was inside of it? I doubt that Saville Row was outfitting the pharaoh three millennia ago?”

“Hmm, indeed. I’m afraid we will have to wait for the police to investigate before we can discover that, my dear,” Alfie snapped back to his usual posture and stepped briefly away.

“It’s so good of you to be here covering our event this weekend, Miss Robins,” he continued in a louder tone as the police arrived.

Phryne instantly sensed Jack before he appeared in her line of sight. He was discreetly hovering nearby on the other end of the tapestry whereas Wanda was nowhere to be seen…again.

“Please move away, ladies and gentleman, this is now the scene of a crime. We are going to need all of you to gather in the, um, Great Hall so we can begin to take your statements,” Hugh checked his notebook for the directions before informing everyone. His two accompanying colleagues tried to direct the crowd to turn away from the scene of the crime.

“That includes _you_ , sir, and _you_ , miss,” he said pointedly towards Alfie and Phryne who had tried to inch closer towards the sarcophagus.

“After you, my dear,” Alfie gestured grandly before him before offering his arm. He then leaned down conspiratorially after she slid a hand into the curve of his elbow.

“Ahem, wasn’t that _your inspector_ back there casually trying to listen in on our conversation? Given he wasn’t the one prodding us along like cattle, I gather he’s also meant to be here _incognito_?”

“Something like that, Alfie. And he’s not _my_ inspector. We’ve worked together on past cases.” At his pointed look, she added reluctantly. “It’s all rather a bit complicated at the moment.”

“Isn’t it always? Either way, it would seem he’s found a new replacement for you rather quickly, old thing,” Alfie remarked as he regarded the attractive woman clinging to the inspector’s arm. “Who is she, by the by?”

“I’m not entirely certain,” Phryne huffed and rolled her eyes when Alfie continued to admire Wanda. _But I’m determined to find out!_

She gave him a little humph and light smack on the shoulder before dragging him along with her towards the Great Hall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne breaks out the "break and enter" beret...

Except for the loud gongs resounding from the large grandfather clock in the great hall, the Edlingtons' country estate remained enveloped in the type of silence that old houses usually shrouded themselves in. Especially just after midnight.

Phryne adjusted the dark beret covering her natural dark tresses having foregone the blonde wig. She had abandoned the irritating thing along with the rest of her evening’s disguise.

She and Alfie had parted ways not too long after Hugh had taken their statements. After Alfie had retreated with a promise to telephone her tomorrow morning for an update, she had made a deliberately elaborate show of leaving for the evening in keeping with her cover story. She was extra glad now for having listened to her original instinct to decline a premier guest invitation, and gain entry to the event by way of a less visible means. She had also eagerly agreed to remain in touch with the police should they require any more information the following day. Deftly ignoring Jack’s lingering gaze as she tossed the end of her gorgeous fur wrap over her shoulder, she had sauntered through the main doors towards Bert and Cec’s waiting taxi.

They had circled around the estate's vast surrounding parkland several times to avoid other exiting guests and allow time for Phryne to shed her latest version of Fern. Eventually, the cabbies had then doubled back using a tradesman’s side road, dropping her off close to an unused side garden. From there, she had slipped out of the garden and taken up temporary residence inside an abandoned room of the mansion’s nearby carriage house waiting for the right moment to re-enter the main house and resume her investigation.

Hopefully this time, without any observers or interruptions…or the “Joneses” about.

She most definitely was not going to think about Jack somewhere in the large estate sharing a room, let alone sleeping in a bed with…with _that woman_ , she fumed.

Not that it was any business of _hers_.

After all, he was a grown man who could do as he pleased. And, he had obviously meant it when he had decided that she was too much trouble. Which was entirely his choice. And one that she had had to accept, albeit quite begrudgingly.

So, why did it still bother her so much?

Alfie’s words came back to haunt her as she dodged around a ghostly tapestry and silently made her way back towards the ballroom.

After everything they had been experiencing together as professional partners, Phryne knew that she had begun to cherish Jack as one of her sacred inner circle and dearest of friends. Now, she admitted that her connection to him also held a tantalising taste of possibly something more.

And now, not only had he gone and walked out on her, giving all that up, he actually had the gall to _replace_ her!

Suddenly, a distinct rustling and scraping sound snapped her from her fuming ruminations. She slowed down just behind one of the ominous pillars surrounding the exhibit, and slowly leaned around to take a peek through the darkness.

Eerie and foggy moonlight streamed in through the room’s floor to ceiling windows and closed French doors that ran along the length of the far external wall.

She could glimpse a large shadowy figure crouched over another sarcophagus struggling with a long object. Most likely a crowbar judging from the way he or she was trying to pry open the heavy lid with it. Holding her breath, Phryne began to inch slowly closer to see if she could identify the other nightly visitor.

Suddenly lifting his or her head, the intruder paused briefly, put down the bar quietly before seeming to evaporate into the darkness. Phryne then heard a creaking noise from the other side of the room where the stranger had seemed to vanish. Slowly counting to twenty in Vietnamese (she had to somehow keep her mind sharpened during the void of interesting cases over the past few weeks after all), she tiptoed over to the large artifact.

Unlike the other sculpted one that had been recently released of its more modern occupant, this one was more box-like in shape and completely carved out of some type of stone. She tried to recall Alfie’s earlier monologue of the various treasures, but couldn’t think of anything useful to her at the moment. After all, her thoughts and eyes had been tracking the movements of one covert detective inspector...and his faux spouse instead.

Glancing about, she leaned over the edge slightly trying to peer inside the gap that the stranger had managed to budge. She brought up her tiny electric torchlight and clicked it on once her arm was inside to hide the light. One brief sweep didn’t seem to reveal anything of initial significance until a small object glimmered from the far corner. It didn’t seem to match with any of the Egyptian objects she had examined from the exhibit earlier. Leaning over the side from her waist, Phryne balancing her body weight whilst trying to reach down through the gap towards the item.

Unexpectedly, she felt herself toppling over and sliding straight through the gap, crying out against the pain of her skin scraping over the stone side. She instinctively reached out to cushion her head from the crashing momentum of her fall.

Just as she had begun to try straightening out her twisted limbs, a loud scraping noise jolted against the thrumming inside her ears. In an instant, the unmistakable sound of the lid being pushed and pried quickly back into place registered inside her brain.

“ _Stop_!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Let me _out_!” She shone her torch back out the quickly closing gap, frantically trying to blind whoever was attempting to entomb her. Just as the lid was about to completely close over her, she heard another noise from somewhere else in the ballroom and the sounds of running footsteps.

“Help me, I’m trapped inside here!” she tried again, desperately trying to see and shout out of the bare sliver of a gap. Despite the comfort of her torchlight, she tried to fight off the suffocating uneasiness of knowing she was helplessly stuck inside someone’s final resting place. “Let me out!”

She sensed movement through the sliver before she heard the voice.

“Fern? Is that you? Try to keep calm. I’ve been trying to move this archaic slab, but I simply can’t budge it. Are you hurt?”

Relief flooded through Phryne when she recognised the voice. At this point, she didn’t care that it belonged to Wanda Jones.

She moved her face up as close to the edge of the lid as possible to reassure the other woman that she was relatively unharmed.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt, at least not too badly.”

“That’s good to know!” She paused momentarily in thought, whether assessing another way to help or holding back from questioning the situation, Phryne didn’t know. Nor did she have the patience to find out.

“Is there any way that you help me get out of here?”

“Unfortunately, the lid is too heavy for me. I’m going to have to go for back up. Sit tight!” And with that she disappeared as quickly as she had arrived.

“Wait!” Silence.

A sudden tickling sensation against her neck caused her body to jerk away instinctively, smacking her already bruised head against the corner. She swallowed back the bile of fear, suddenly remembering to scan the inside of her stone prison for any other, tiny occupants.

As the beam of her torch revealed the coffin’s inner artwork, she cringed and fought back the panic at the sight of the elaborate hieroglyphs and paintings hovering right next to her. They seemed to taunt her unwanted memories that kept threatening to drown her all evening.

As her torchlight began to flicker slightly, Phryne was left to face the shadows of her old demons alone.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How long will Phryne be trapped in the stone sarcophagus? Who's going to come to her rescue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, I'm loving your wonderful reactions to this! Poor Phryne, indeed! Just to reward you for your patience, here's the next chapter!

Jack tried to channel his fear by pushing harder as he raced down the dark corridor.

_Where was she?_

There was the rumbling of voices from further down. One of them sounded like hers.

In fact, he knew it was hers because it was the same one always resonating inside of his head, especially when he tried to tune it out. But this was no time to mull over that.

She yelled suddenly out in anger…and what he rarely ever heard in her voice: _raw fear_.

He had to find her and fast!

Suddenly, he spotted the flickering of candles ahead by some stone columns and soared ahead, gripping the side of a stone pillar as he rounded the corner. Only to find the collection of eerie antiquities in all shapes and sizes silently displayed before him.

A sharp noise from the corner had him pulling out his gun as he inched towards the far corner.

Only to find an immobile Phryne in the arms of someone he had hoped to never lay eyes on again. Murdoch Foyle!

“Phryne, _noooo_!” he surged in that direction. “Put her down, Foyle!”

“I don’t think so, Inspector,” his voice taunted him from out of the darkness in front of him. “She’s going somewhere far, far away where you will never find her again.”

“No, you bastard!” Jack lunged forward only to find himself hurtling through empty space.

Only to land a few inches away from a large hole in the ground.

Recovering enough to get onto his hands and knees, he inched his face over the edge to peer into the darkness.

His scream froze silently as he lunged over the side and stretched out his hands, trying to reach her still body as it lay stretched out inside a stone-looking coffin below him. His heart shattered apart at the sight of her glassy eyes staring up at him in a terrifying, frozen expression.

“ _PHRYNE_!”

His scream jolted his slumbering body awake as he found himself tangled in sweat-drenched blankets. He blinked in the muted darkness taking in his surroundings slowly.

From the faint moonlight peeking through a crack in one of the room’s heavy curtains, Jack found himself lying face down over the edge of a large chaise longue. Quickly orienting himself, he remembered that he was in the parlour of his and Wanda’s suite of rooms where he had fallen asleep not too long after midnight. Squinting at his wristwatch in the faint light, he saw that it had just gone half past four.

His racing heartbeat still pounding like hammers against his chest, he breathed steadily as he allowed his body to tumble the rest of the way onto the floor, and stayed still for a brief moment. Slapping his hands against the throbbing in his temples, Jack slowly sat up before attempting to liberate himself from the cover that still entangled his legs.

 _Phryne_! He immediately thought with fleeting panic. _Keep calm, Robinson, you saw her leave earlier and she seemed fine. She must be safely back at home by now._ At least she was far away from where a killer was still running loose, he tried to reassure himself.

Despite the painful awkwardness of (literally) running into her again earlier in the evening, he really wished he could call or visit her at that moment just to hear or see for himself that she was safe. Anything to vanquish that horrible feeling of dread from his dream that still lingered. The helpless fear that had nearly crippled him in his dream still left him feeling cold inside out.

Fighting the urge to shiver, he stood up shakily to make his way over to the generous drinks cabinet, swinging back a quick measure of whisky. The alcohol jolted his senses, but he stopped at the one swig. He instinctively felt the need to keep his wits about him more than ever at the moment.

He glanced over at the closed bedroom door, moving quietly to not disturb Wanda as he searched through a pile of clothes he had had the foresight to retrieve from the wardrobe before they had retired for the night. Choosing one of Archie’s more casual outfits, Jack methodically unbuttoned the gaudy silk pyjama top before peeling it from his still damp torso. He relished the instant the cold night air clamped to his sweaty skin as he regained his equilibrium.

The nightmare ruined any chance he might have at trying to catch more sleep so he decided he might as well do his job, and put in more time to do some covert investigating.

As he continued to get dressed, his thoughts kept trailing back to Phryne’s distinctly uncustomary reactions to seeing him there tonight. She had seemed rather out of sorts at times, and not at all like her usual sassy and collected self. At least, when she had been in direct contact with him. Oh, she had still attempted to don her usually nonchalant mantle as much as possible, and to the average observer, she had played the part of curious reporter to a tee.

But, she could never fool him. Despite not seeing or speaking to her for nearly a month, he could still see straight through the surface to the faint fault lines beneath her demeanour. The earlier twinges of guilt now clawed back at him in full force when he acknowledged how he could have unintentionally chipped at her inner shell when he had walked out on her that last evening in her parlour.

He wondered vaguely if her more marked reactions this evening had anything to do with discovering Wanda at his side. After all, apart from Rosie, Phryne had never met any other female who could claim a close acquaintance with him. It was a spot that she had surreptitiously claimed for her own without either of them really realising it. Until her friend had been killed in that car accident.

His heart both leapt and then plummeted at the possibility that Phryne might feel anything deeply at all towards him in that regard. Maybe it was just her strong personality clashing with the equally indomitable one of Wanda. Good god, that alone would account for how off-kilter he felt being inevitably caught between these two powerful forces.

Finishing his musings, Jack shook his head to clear it completely of his full reflections. He decided against leaving Wanda a note so as to not alert the maids of anything amiss with the truth of their so-called marital bliss.

Slipping on his usual, well-worn brown Oxfords that he had sneaked in amongst Archie’s finer wardrobe, the inspector silently slipped out of the room, locking the door securely behind him.

 

*-*-*

 

Jack crept down the darkened main staircase slowly. He reasoned with himself that he’d be less likely to run into one of the household staff if he used the back ones.

With a glance over his shoulders, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled at the uneasy sense of being watched. After no menacing spectre had emerged or emitted a sound, he brushed it off to his instant dislike to the gallery of painted Edlingtons who had been silently observing every step that had trod upon their family’s colonial estate for the past sixty odd years.

Following the beam of his portable torch, Jack prowled his way towards the ballroom where he wanted to carefully examine the scene of the crime for himself. One of the other drawbacks of being undercover was having to maintain that cover. It had been more than difficult to force himself to stand back watching his men carry out the essentials in the public eye without him. He trusted them to do this well, especially under Hugh’s direction, but it was still difficult to hold back when he was simply itching to flex his investigative muscles. It was also a very convenient method for shelving all the emotional drama still clinging to the atmosphere about him.

As he neared the corner gallery where all the bigger exhibit pieces continued to hide their millennia of secrets, Jack halted abruptly next to a larger stone sarcophagus. There was more than just drama lingering in the air. He sniffed quietly, willing his spiking senses to keep calm even as his heart began to staccato into a super frantic pace.

No, it couldn’t be! He would recognize the notes of that perfume anywhere!

Of course she would have returned, most likely through some illegitimate entry point. Of course she would have beat him in returning to re-examine the crime scene. Of course she would most likely have done so all on her own despite the fact that a killer was at large!

“Oh, Phryne,” he muttered in quiet resignation as he began to glance about him wondering where she had disappeared to, and praying to whoever might be listening that she was safe. “Whatever am I to do with you?”

“I could certainly recommend a few things, Inspector,” her ghostly voice rasped out in reply.

“Phryne?!” He jumped at the unexpected response, whirling around to find her. “Are you there?” He pivoted about carefully shining the beam of his torch towards all the shadows. His concern amplified when the light still didn’t reveal her. Wherever she was, she certainly didn’t sound like her usual self. “Miss Fisher? Where are you?”

“Here, Jack,” her voice grew a little stronger with audible relief. “Here! I’m in here!”

He shone the light downwards when he felt her fingers poking through the edge of the sarcophagus and brush weakly against his leg.

“Phryne! What on earth...?” He stopped to assess the situation before propping the torch on the ground. “Hang on, I’m going to see if I can move the lid so keep away from it if you can.”

Anchoring himself, he began to push with all his might against the heavy stone. But in spite of his best efforts, he only managed to nudge it open another inch or so. Enough for her to slip her hand through to grip his. It was freezing cold.

He quickly tried to warm it between both of his, blowing his warm breathe onto it. “Phryne, tell me what happened! How long have you been in there?”

“I-I’m not sure, Jack,” she gave him her other hand to warm up as well. “I returned to the house about an hour after midnight.” Jack tampered down his alarm and was glad she couldn’t see his face at that bit of information. _Oh god, she’d been trapped inside this stone coffin for nearly five hours?!_

“I came here at first. Then I spotted someone by this object, “she began to recount. “After they left, I came over to investigate…and then…then, someone pushed me in and closed the lid…” her voice caught on a slight sob.

Jack instantly squeezed her hands tightly in reassurance, channelling her his strength and allowing her to regain her composure from what he could deduce had been a harrowing encounter.

“But then, Wanda arrived before they could completely close the lid. She said she was going for help after she couldn’t move it.”

“What on earth? I haven’t seen her since we retired for the evening just before midnight.”

_Just what I need…both of them prowling about in the middle of the night with a killer on the loose!_

Jack wasn’t at all surprised to learn this news. He was more concerned about where Wanda had gotten to and could only hope she hadn’t found herself in a similar predicament. He inwardly groaned, but snapped back to attention when Phryne had gathered more energy to continue.

“Then, my torch went out, and I waited and waited.” The sudden intensity of her grip was enough to tell him the extent of the horrific turmoil she must have endured at that moment.

“I then managed to doze off for a bit. I was so cold,” she paused again when he again began to rub first one hand and then the other. “But then, I woke up when I heard something, and then saw the torchlight. And then I heard your voice,” the earlier relief in her voice came back in full force again.

“Phryne,” he began, not liking what he was about to tell her. “I won’t be able to move this lid on my own. So, I’m going to have to leave you here to go find something or someone who can help me. I promise I won’t be gone for too long.” He rubbed his thumbs along the smooth skin on the back of her hands wishing he didn’t have to let go.

“I know,” she tried to reassure him. “Go do what you need to do, Inspector. After all, we still need to resume that discussion about what you were going to do with me.” He felt only slightly comforted by the hint of her usual cheeky tone.

“Here, take my torch. It’s not much, but at least you won’t be left in the dark on your own.”

“Be careful, Jack, stay safe!”

“Same to you, Miss Fisher.”

With one last squeeze of his strong hands, he disappeared with the rumble of his voice echoing reassuringly in her mind and warming her heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne tries to learn more about the mysterious Wanda Jones...besides the fact she also has good taste in lipstick.

The lights from the ballroom’s chandeliers sparkled off the glints of his dark golden hair. Around and around they whirled in time to the syncopated rhythms of the waltz that swirled throughout the ballroom with them.

Phryne closed her eyes and savoured the rush of the air against her dress as it swished in time to his careful leading. She opened them again just in time to catch that special near smile he seemed to reserve for her alone, the one that shone through his eyes and slightly quirked the side edges of his lips.

“Phryne,” his voice slid down through her all the way to her toes. She closed her eyes in contentment until some external force suddenly sliced through her joy. Something was very wrong. She jerked her eyes open and looked up into his dear, familiar face.

His tone and expression suddenly changed to one flooded with intense worry.

“Phryne!”

“Jack,” she automatically responded. “I’m right here! Why are you shouting at me? What’s going on?”

Suddenly, she was no longer twirling throughout the room in his arms, but transported somewhere completely devoid of light or sound…and without any Jack.

“Jack!” she threw out her arms as though to shield herself from the unwelcome crush of panic trying to find him. “Jack, where did you go?”

Instead of his welcomed familiar face, the slightly blurry image of the woman masquerading as Wanda Jones materialised out of the darkness instead, and hovered within the range of her vision.

“He’s gone.” When Phryne didn’t answer, she repeated herself. “I’m sorry, but he’s not here.”

“ _Noooooo_ ,” the intensity of her protestations escaping her lungs jolted her awake, and she struggled to sit up. She blinked rapidly and drew in deep breathes to study her racing pulse whilst her mind quickly assessed her strange surroundings.

She was lying against numerous cushions on a wide and expensively decorated four-poster bed, with three sides of its richly brocaded emerald curtains pulled across enclosing her in. An elaborate lamp lit most of the room in a sallow glow. It reminded her of some of the guest rooms at her parents’ estate back in England, which she had never liked for their oppressive and suffocating atmosphere.

She immediately looked over at the undrawn side with suspicion at Wanda standing there tensely, her large brown eyes reflecting equal wariness as she regarded Phryne pensively.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake, Miss Robins,” she spoke deliberately, a quick flicker of her eyes warning Phryne to keep silent as a sleepy maid bustled into the room with a tray of hot tea, finger sandwiches and other normally delectable desserts. Wanda thanked the young woman and reached over to stir in four sugar cubes before handing the cup and saucer to Phryne.

“You’d better drink this to keep the dizziness at bay,” Wanda advised, her tone bordering on authoritative. Somehow, bristling slightly, Phryne had the impression it was one that the woman used effortlessly with regularity. Even in her current flustered state, Phryne also instinctively recognised that Mrs Jones’ obvious American accent was not just a contrived part of her cover.

Warily, she accepted the proffered drink and drank it down with a quick gulp knowing Wanda was right about the sweetened tea. She cleared her throat loudly.

“I presume Archie is out enjoying an early stroll?” she enquired, wanting to know where Jack was, but realising that she needed to retain civility to preserve all of their covers, especially for Jack’s sake. No matter how things currently stood between them, she would not willingly jeopardise his work or safety.

“Yes…that’s right. I’ve stayed behind to make sure you had everything you needed to recover adequately,” Wanda grudgingly informed Phryne, but keeping up the pretext for the sake of the maid who was now poking around the fireplace in the suite’s parlour. The woman’s accusatory glare transmitted the rest of her unspoken annoyance at Phryne’s interruption to their plans.

“Yes, of course,” Phryne adopted an apologetic tone at the other woman’s unspoken warning. “You have my deepest gratitude.”

She recalled the moment when Jack had returned with Wanda and the footman she had spoken to earlier in tow (Casey, she believed Wanda had called him). Together, they had all managed to free the lid of the sarcophagus. Jack had then helped her out of her nightly tomb, and had insisted on carrying her back to his and Wanda’s suite. Too physically and emotionally drained, not to mention cold and dehydrated from her ordeal, Phryne hadn’t resisted. He had then tucked her into the opulent bed, and must have continued his search for their nightly suspect after she had fallen asleep.

“I’m so terribly sorry to intrude.” She quickly swung her legs over the sides of the bed to stand up and braced herself against the sudden rush of dizziness.

She hated feeling so out of control of the situation and the investigation. Especially when she didn’t know who this woman was and whether or not she could be trusted. If she was working undercover with Jack, then she must be experienced. Phryne wasn’t sure whether American police forces were more open to having female investigators amongst their ranks these days, but somehow she doubted it. If only she could simply ask him. Then again, if they weren’t currently estranged, then _she_ would be here this weekend as “Mrs Jones” and not this…this impostor!

Phryne quickly fought to tamp down the confusion and panic welling up inside her. She looked up slowly after schooling her expression back to its usual poise. After all, she was Phryne Fisher!

And, she was determined to discover more about who this woman really was. She knew she wouldn’t find any answers by remaining there giving Wanda the impression she was some helpless and empty-headed socialite who dramatically sought attention by “playing detective”. Then again, maybe she should leave that impression so that Jack’s faux-wife wouldn’t be any the wiser, and she could get on with the case _without_ the need for a guardian.

“Thank you again for your assistance. I won’t be taking up any more of your time this evening, _Mrs Jones_ ,” she couldn’t stop the slight jab with a subtle hint of her trademark touch of defiance.

Wanda’s staunch expression let up only momentarily, betraying the barest of smirks at Phryne’s tone. With a flick of her silky, dark bob, the other woman turned to go check on the maid’s progress in the other room.

Phryne slowly began to follow when she noticed the slightly opened door of the ornate, mahogany wardrobe. She instantly spotted the outline of a very familiar wool suit peeking out to mock her. The sight of it hanging there next to Wanda’s things pinched at her heart more than she cared to admit.

Blinking away from the sight, she paused briefly by the ornate dressing table to straighten her beret in front of the mirror whilst casually glancing over the contents displayed there. Again, her mind immediately honed in on the neatly arrayed shaving kit and dearly familiar set of cufflinks nestled on their own to the side away from Wanda’s jewellery box and perfume. Her hand had reached out to caress one of Jack’s tie pins, when the prickles on the back of her neck alerted her to the fact that she was being watched.

“Oh, you’d better not forget this,” Wanda nonchalantly remarked with an unreadable expression as she sauntered through the bedroom door holding up Phryne’s notebook. Phryne murmured her thanks whilst Wanda stepped over to the open wardrobe door and pulled out an exquisitely detailed silk nightdress before closing it soundly. The lady detective pretended to continue examining her now non-existent make-up.

“Go ahead, help yourself,” Wanda gave a wave towards her selection of cosmetics before quickly shedding her silk dressing gown.

“Why, thank you,” Phryne chose a shade of lipstick closest to her usual one. She resumed touching up her appearance whilst wondering where and how Mrs Jones had managed to get herself so thoroughly covered in dust. In fact, now that she was feeling much more herself again, she wondered exactly where Jack’s so-called wife had disappeared to the entire time she had been waiting for her to return.

Once Wanda finished changing into her night clothes, Phryne had finished tucking away her notebook. She waited for the other woman to lead the way and see her out of the room, trying to ignore the slight hitch of her heart when Wanda firmly closed the door with a formal good night. Phryne quickly committed the location of the Joneses’ compartments to memory before glancing in both directions.

_Just where exactly has Jack disappeared to?_

It was just as well he was nowhere to be seen. The alternative was imagining him locked in there with that woman and her showy lingerie! Opting for the corridor leading away from the main landing, she slinked away at a stealthy pace as the light of dawn slowly crept along behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie Jones shows off his horsemanship skills to the delight of the entire world. And our beloved heroes show off their tennis whites...and rowing prowess. Yes, it's like the bloody Olympics chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to everyone who has been faithfully commenting! Your lovely reactions have been spurring me on to get this fic finished! Thanks for sticking with it, hope you enjoy this next installment!

“Yes, Mr Butler?”

Phryne called out in response to the perfunctory knock on her bedroom door. She had just been startled awake from a troubled nap after arriving back home a few hours earlier that morning. Unfortunately, her night time excursion kept bringing back unwanted dreams that she’d just as rather forego by trying to keep awake.

“Telephone for you, miss.” Her heart leapt involuntarily like the flicker of a tender flame. Just before the gust of reality trampled in and quickly pinched it out. “I believe it is Lord Severn.”

She quickly slipped out of bed at the prospect of returning to her case. “Please tell him, I shall be right there!”

Throwing on one of her robes, she made her way down the stairs, taking a quick bite from the slice of buttered toast Dot had just placed on the little side table housing the telephone. Phryne quickly blew her a kiss as she flounced down onto her side stool and picked up the receiver.

“Well, Alfie, what’s the latest scoop?”

“You really are enjoying this journalistic foray, aren’t you, old bean?”

“But, of course! So, tell me what’s happening!!

“Well, during breakfast this morning, the bobbies all converged again to take follow-up statement from everyone. I’m surprised they haven’t contacted you again for yours, especially considering your inspector and his, er, ‘wife’, were rounded up like the rest of us.”

“No one is above the law, after all, Alfie. Plus, they know where to find me. Now, what’s the agenda for the rest of the day? After all, a girl’s got to know how to dress for the occasion.”

“Oh, you know, the usual poppycock. Bit of polo, think some were thinking of rowing on the lake, croquet and tennis on the lawn before afternoon tea. You could come back for any of those if they tickle your fancy. In fact, why don’t you come dust off that wicked serve of yours?”

“Splendid idea, Alfie. Although, are you absolutely certain because you do know you are a hopeless dear when it comes to anything involving sports, Alfie.”

“Steady on there, my dear! It takes extraordinary effort to maintain this physique…with minimal exertion.”

“Don’t I know it,” she smirked playfully.

“Whilst you’re digging about for your tennis whites, be sure to add one of your finest frocks to the mix as well for the masquerade that’s apparently still happening after the auction that was postponed from last night.”

“Oooh, I do adore a good disguise. So now I need to come up with one for my cover essentially? Hardly think I need to guess the theme?”

“Hardly. Although, I’m highly expecting you to come up with something that isn’t quite so cliché. Surprise me.”

“I do like a man with a brilliant idea, Alfie, although it may be hard to surprise an Egyptian expert such as yourself! I’ll have to see if Dot can make me up a darling mask.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing it. Until then, toodle pip, my dear.”

 

*-*-*

 

This time, Cec and Bert left her at the front entrance. She was greeted by the Edlington’s butler who passed her along to a handsome footman (not the one from last night) who immediately took her things.

“I’ll be sure to have these sent to a guest room for you, miss. Now, would you like me to escort you to the green lawn out back? I believe the polo match is just about to finish.”

“Why, yes, thank you, that would be delightful,” Phryne flashed him one of her sultry smiles.

Without batting an eyelid, the footman turned around to lead the way. _I wonder where Lady E finds these fine specimens, especially if they are rather impervious to the advances of beautiful women._

Using the ploy of securing her plum-coloured cloche over her blonde curls, Phryne quickly scanned the crowd of onlookers. She thanked the doorman before slowly picking her way over to a wicker chair containing a bored-looking Alfie. He perked up when he noticed her beaming down at him, quickly rising to his feet to offer her his seat. Not too far away, a group of gorgeously arrayed women exhaled a collective sigh that prompted Phryne to turn and stare at the object of their rapt attention.

Biting her lip, she too drank in the sight of Archie Jones’ rugged form swivelling over his mount to powerfully swing his polo mallet towards the wooden ball that had just appeared within his range. The crowd’s excitement began to build as he smoothly turned his horse to chase after it again before his opponent could approach. Phryne managed to peel her eyes away from this tantalising version of the normally reserved inspector to pay brief tribute to his opposing teammate. This man was also stealing quite the show with his own rather impressive brawn and riding skills.

Alfie looked down then and rolled his eyes at Phryne’s rapt expression.

“Oh, that’s Toddy, or Jonathan Toddington-Barry, the chap I mentioned to you last night. He’s always been an avid rider and horse breeder, I believe. When he’s not dabbling at antiquities. Or wooing the ladies.”

A great gasp from the crowd returned her focus back to Archie Jones, who had won back the spotlight. With another great swing, he balanced himself securely and sent the ball sailing into the other team’s goal, prompting another great roar of cheering. Phryne’s eyes greedily locked onto the inspector’s rolled up shirtsleeves that revealed those wonderful forearms she had already committed to memory (and more than occasionally called up when she was in the mood) since their case in Queenscliff. The sudden tender memory of his hands warming hers last night also pinpricked across her heart.

“Why, they’re all positively salivating,” Alfie’s mocking tone snapped her back to attention. “This is why I prefer more civil, indoor pursuits…such as fencing. Who needs the burden of the sun to add to all the sweat?” He sniffed condescendingly, picking an invisible piece of lint off his immaculate afternoon suit.

Phryne immediately glanced over at the women before realising Alfie wasn’t referring to them at all. But he may as well have been. “Well, not all of us can carry ourselves with your particular aplomb, Alfie dear.” She patted his hand in mock consolation.

“Oh my _dear_ , how marvellously your husband plays,” another voice floated over before Phryne could tease her friend. “Does he ride quite often then?”

“You know how it is, Mrs Ashridge. He would prefer to ride and play much more often, but it’s so difficult with our constant travels. But, I do so enjoy watching him when he can.” Wanda’s voice proudly conceded with a coquettish flick of her bob in Jack’s direction.

“Don’t we _all_ , my dear. You are a _very_ lucky thing!” As though to corroborate Lady Edlington’s words, her husband suddenly snored very loudly from the lawn chair where he had dozed off near the extensive swimming pool.

“You’d better keep an eye on him in this crowd, darling.” Their hostess added, suddenly leaning over to tap Wanda’s hand playfully with her silk-covered fan before opening it and fanning herself elaborately with a slight giggle. The sunlight caught the glint of her ruby rings.

At that moment, Casey the footman approached with a tray of refreshing cocktails saving Phryne from having to internally combust.

_How dare these women speak about Jack in this manner! Why, they hardly even know him!_

She ought to…ought to...do nothing, another part of her brain chided her. After all, she had no claim over him. Especially at this moment. All she’d end up doing was risking the chance of blowing their covers and ruining all opportunity to get to the bottom of this case.

Gratefully accepting one of the glasses, she schooled her thoughts and channelled her pent-up energy onto the dishy man before her.

“I believe you still owe me a dance from last night! Casey, isn’t it?”

“Why yes, miss, that’s right. And I apologise, miss, but I was on duty or I would have been honoured.” He ducked his head shyly, the sunlight reflecting off his charming spectacles.

“No matter, no harm done. You’ll just have to have to find a way to make it up to me at the masquerade tonight then!”

Before he could respond, Wanda approached rattling off an extra complicated drinks request. “Oh, and would you mind making that a martini on the rocks for Mr Jones,” she added for good measure, batting her eyelids. Phryne’s frustration again peaked when Casey seemed to melt at the other woman’s attention.

“Come along, old thing, before you completely lose your touch!” Alfie quickly led her away by the elbow in the direction of the tennis lawn.

The two sauntered along arm in arm as Alfie filled her in on all that he had managed to glean.

“So, rumour has it that the dead bloke was some top government aide and former MP. A Robert Galway.”

“Do tell, although his name does ring a bell slightly. I’ll have to think back as to why.”

“Well, the police were quite tight-lipped about it when they returned this morning. But, I heard that they suspected poison.”

Phryne quickly put down her cocktail glass at that, and picked up one of the tennis rackets instead. “Come on then, if that’s the case, we’d best remain in top form.”

After a few rounds, they had started to gather a bit of an audience. Despite Alfie’s affected air of boredom and his nonchalant ways, he could certainly hold his own on the tennis court.

“Care to double things up a bit?” Wanda suddenly appeared with her own racket to hand. “You two against Archibald and I?” She looked directly at Phryne with a wicked glint in her eye.

“An excellent idea, Mrs Jones,” Phryne returned with a challenging undertone to her acceptance. “What say you, Lord Severn?”

“Anything to get myself away from the receiving end of your serve, Miss Robins!”

Jack simply rolled his eyes as Wanda dragged him over to the court. Somehow, he just had a foreboding inkling that this was going to be a very long match.

 

***-*-***

 

Phryne sulked from under her parasol as the afternoon’s muggy heat cloyed at her irritated mood.

“Be sure to keep your leg elevated, my dear. I’ll go see about some more ice. And a lot more champagne from the looks of things,” Alfie added with a sympathetic smile at her thunderous expression.

Looking longingly at the lake, she easily ignored the twinge in her ankle in order to bask again in the glorious memory of her beautiful lunge earlier that had brought about a draw in their tennis match. It was certainly well worth it to see the smug expression on Wanda’s face vanish when she saved the ball from declaring the Jones’ victory.

“My, you are quick, darling,” she purred when a cold champagne flute appeared just below the rim of parasol.

“Only if it pleases the lady.” Phryne quickly lowered her shade at the sound of the unfamiliar, yet charming voice.

“Why, thank you,” she accepted the glass and paused to take a little sip with a quick upward sweep of her eyes. They widened appreciatively at the sight of the wide jaw and beautiful lashes gazing back down at her quite boldly. Up close, his reddish curls nearly begged to have someone’s fingers running through them.

“Jonathan Toddington-Barry, at your command,” he crouched down suddenly to retrieve her parasol and lifted her hand to press against his smooth, wide lips.

“Fern Robins,” she replied coyly. “Currently indisposed.”

“So I see,” the gentleman replied. “Or saw, rather. That was quite the impressive match back there!” He added with more than an appreciative gleam in his eye.

“I do like to keep everyone on their toes.”

“I can certainly imagine! You'd probably gather quite the crowd at Wimbledon, I should think!”

“Oh, nonsense, you're too kind,” Phryne affected a modest air. “I highly doubt I'd make it out in this chair now, let alone to London!”

“Rotten luck that, indeed! But you mustn't languish away as a result. Would you be amenable to a brief row around the lake?”

“Why, that’s a splendid idea, Mr Toddington-Barry!”

“Please, do call me ‘Todd,’ or ‘Toddy,’ as most people do. The rest is too much of a mouthful.”

“Thank you, Toddy.” Her red lips curled to the side in an alluring smile as she extended her hand for him to help her to her feet. “You may call me, Fern.”

Balancing herself, perhaps a bit more heavily against his muscled arm than was strictly necessary, the lady detective managed to make her way down to the little dock along the lake. Once they arrived, Toddy helped her get settled into one of the well-maintained rowing boats moored there. Undoing the rope, he picked up a set of oars before slipping inside the vessel and proceeded to slice their way through the waters that offered some refreshing respite to the oppressive air.

“You’ve obviously done this before,” Phryne remarked with undisguised admiration.

“Well, I was at Cambridge,” he shrugged boyishly. “This sort of went with the territory.”

“So tell me, Todd, what brings you here this weekend? Lord Severn mentioned that you have an eye for Egyptian antiquities?”

“Good ol’, Alfie,” he chuckled. “No one else could measure up to his expertise in these things.”

Phryne tried to focus on Toddy’s responses…and not to his arm muscles and shoulders as they bunched and pulled with each push and pull of the oars.

“But, yes, that’s right, I’ve been known to keep my eye out for the odd, dazzling treasure here or there.” Suddenly, his eyes sent her a meaningful look. “Especially one that’s happened to catch my fancy.”

Phryne gave him a secretive smile as she glanced down demurely, but chose not to respond. “So, apart from the big exhibit, are you familiar with the family here at all?”

“I suppose so,” he paused to navigate around a tiny island housing a replica of what looked to be a Grecian folly. “Portia’s brother and I used to get up to some mischief back in the day, as lads are prone to do.”

“I see, so you knew her and her family back in England then?”

“You know how it can be. But that’s nothing to worry your pretty head over. What _I’m_ interesting in learning, however, is whether or not I can persuade you to reserve me a dance, or two, tonight at the masquerade?”

“I think I could be persuaded to something to that effect.”

“So, who shall I be on the lookout for this evening…the Queen of the Nile, perhaps?” He had lifted the oars once they were alongside the little isle, allowing them to drift along the welcomed light breeze.

“Well, good sir, you know that a lady _never_ reveals her secrets.”

He reached over then to trace his fingers ever so lightly down the side of her uninjured ankle. “Not unless she was willing to be persuaded?”

“The would depend on the gentleman’s investigative abilities, of course.” His hand slid up along her leg just ever so imperceptibly.

Phryne had closed her eyes against the delicious sensations bubbling up inside. Until she was jolted out of her reverie rudely when their boat jerked suddenly. Something had crashed into the side of it.

“Oh, do pardon me!” A familiar deep voice rumbled from nearby. “I’m just a tad rusty with the old oars. Are you all right, my dear?”

“I’m quite fine, thank you,” Phryne replied testily without thinking, her response interlacing with another voice at the same time.

“Do forgive my husband,” Wanda continued with a smirk. “It would seem that he can handle a horse much better than he can a boat.”

“Charming,” the lady detective’s companion remarked with false amusement as the other couple proceeded to row away.

Phryne sighed inwardly, mumbling something about her ankle hurting, and perhaps she ought to be getting some rest.

With a mock salute, Toddy dutifully rowed them back to shore in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonder who or what secrets shall be revealed at the masquerade ball?

Intoxicated by the delightful sensations she always derived from executing a fine tango, Phryne found her insides still sizzling as she lingered in the arms of the mysterious Jonathan Toddington-Barry. She sighed again, trying to grasp at the familiar feelings that being near him evoked.

Toddy led her over to a nearby pillar with the promise to return with some refreshing champagne. Beneath the sand-coloured silks of her evening gown’s skirts, she gently rotated her left ankle, glad that the aching had mostly subsided. It had certainly been her fault, perhaps, but it had also been well worth the pain.

She certainly hadn’t let it stop her from enjoying a few rounds about the ballroom with Alfie and a few of the other handsome guests. After all, this was who she was, and what she lived for, even if it was through the guise of being Fern Robins at the moment. This freedom was what she craved.

She had never wanted be tied to anyone. She had never wanted to be owned. She had never wanted anything serious with someone.            

So, why were the rushing sensations no longer enough? Why wasn’t she happy?

For once, she stopped deluding herself long enough to admit the bloody truth.  

It was because of Jack Robinson.

It was because _he_ still persisted in being the exception to her rules.

 _He_ made her want to be serious…especially about him.                        

Except _he_ represented what she believed she'd never want, or be able to live with.                      

And damn it all, _he_ wouldn't make her give up anything about herself. So _he_ had given her up instead.

She lifted her gloved hand up to try to massage the throbbing headache coming on beneath her elaborate headgear, wondering if she could find something stronger to drink.

As though her thoughts could conjure the man, his voice caressed her ear just at that moment.

“‘She had a passion for secrecy, but she herself was merely a Sphinx without a secret.’”

“At least none that I could attempt to keep from you,” she murmured in resignation so that he nearly didn’t hear. “Although that doesn’t sound like your beloved Bard?”

Jack smirked slightly as he leant against the other side of the pillar from her. He was wearing another dashing tuxedo tonight underneath some odd golden and jeweled-encrusted paraphernalia making up his so-called costume for the evening’s masquerade ball.

“No, that was Oscar Wilde.”

“And how did you know I was, well, me?”

“Well, Miss Fisher, first of all, despite your very cunning disguise as a delightful sphinx, you’ve again made the mistake of being one that wears an abundance of French perfume.”

She reflexively swatted at his shoulder in response. He deftly caught her hand in mid-air and held it gently, yet securely. She didn’t resist.

“Secondly, you’re also the only sphinx trying to hide a twisted ankle.”

“And you, oh great, Pharaoh…”

“Ramses, thank you very much.”

“I see. Well, Great Ramses, you have seemed to have misplaced your queen, again.”

“As usual, you are correct. And, she is currently otherwise occupied.”

“As usual,” Phryne retorted swiftly.

Jack’s expression remained the same behind his faux-jewelled mask and elaborate head piece although the pressure of his hand tightened slightly. Only someone who knew him as well as she could tell that he was battling with some inner emotions that stormed through his aquamarine eyes.

“Phryne,” he spoke in a tone only she could hear. “I’m truly sorry. About earlier, I mean. It wasn’t my place.”

Not feeling steady enough for a deep discussion of that nature, especially with Jack, at the moment, she tried to make light of their afternoon encounter.

“Well, Mrs Jones was right. It would seem your skills on a horse do far surpass that of navigating a boat.” She parroted Wanda’s words from earlier.

Jack quickly glanced about before inching closer to her side slightly.

“Phryne, just how well acquainted are you with Lord Severn?”

“Well enough, I should say, considering we’ve known each other for years now,” she glanced at him suspiciously with an enquiring quirk of an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

Jack considered her response quietly before continuing. “I’m only enquiring because some evidence has come to light that brings up potential questions about your, um, friend, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne righted herself with a start, grateful for his steadying grip on the hand he still held that prevented her from toppling over in her surprise.

“What do you mean? What evidence, Jack?” She managed to keep the concern in her tone from escalating too noticeably.

“I’m not at liberty to expand. Let’s just say an object that can be directly tied to him has been recovered at a questionable location. It might be nothing, but it could be significant as well. I’m only informing you so you’re aware.” _And so you don’t try anything rash!_

“Thank you for your concern, Mr Jones. It’s been duly noted,” Jack flinched slightly from her suddenly frosty tone.

Before he could respond, an arrogant, masked Caesar approached with a sparkling flute of champagne that he relinquished with a dramatic nod and half bow.

“ _Ave!_ ” Phryne raised the glass, using the ancient Roman salute for their emperors before emptying it effortlessly and passing the drained glass to Jack. “I feel sufficiently revitalised now for another whirl about the room!”

With her other hand, she grabbed Caesar’s arm and turned back towards the fray. “ _Salve_ , Pharaoh.”

Jack continued to lean against the pillar, admiring the glint of the light against the jewels of Phryne’s golden satin mask as she threw her head back in laughter at something Caesar had whispered into her ear. It was a sound that always managed to electrify his blood, and had nursed him throughout the empty moments since he had tried to give her up.

His eyes drank in the twinkling beaded sequins of her dress that was spectacular, but didn’t compare to the lethal gown he would never be able to erase from his mind. Shaking his head, he attempted to disentangle his jumbled emotions that still hadn’t had a chance to settle, especially after his disturbing dream from the night before.

They had only become even more muddled after discovering her trapped inside the sarcophagus last night, and then watching her injure herself earlier just to prove a point with Wanda.

Then, how his blood had boiled when Toddington-Barry had whisked her away and tried to publicly seduce her on the boat. And now, there was this lead in the case pointing to her friend who was also hovering about at all times. He had thought removing her from his life would preserve him from this ongoing agony.

Spotting the approach of a scantily-clad Cleopatra whom he suspected was the lady of the house making her way in his direction, the inspector quickly slipped between the pillar towards one of the lesser populated galleries that branched off the ballroom.

“‘The Sphinx-riddle. Solve it, or be torn to bits, is the decree.’” He quoted to himself with one last glance in Phryne’s direction before departing the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first sphinx quote by Jack is by Oscar Wilde: _“She had a passion for secrecy, but she herself was merely a Sphinx without a secret.”_
> 
> The second one he quotes to himself is by D.H. Lawrence: _“The Sphinx-riddle. Solve it, or be torn to bits, is the decree.”_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspector Robinson goes missing this time so Phryne enlists the help of Wanda to search for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since I had a rather bloody time of it travelling to the US for my work trip today (e.g., having my glasses break enroute to Heathrow airport, getting on the wrong tube train in London when my intended lines just happened to be closed for maintenance this weekend, being stuck for over 1.5 hours at US customs, then having my corporate card blocked due to a fraud alert right when I was trying to check into my hotel)...I'm rewarding us all with this next chapter! As always, thanks for your lovely comments!

For the second night in a row, the Edlingtons' gallery of painted ancestors kept vigil as a shadow slinked its way up their family’s main staircase. Tiptoeing along, Phryne retraced the way back to the corridor containing the suite of Mr and Mrs Archibald Jones.

She had startled herself awake from yet another disturbing dream before finding herself in an unfamiliar guest room. As a result, it had taken her a tad longer than usual to recall how she had elected to accept their hosts’ invitation to stay overnight and remain until the grand finale garden party gala the following day. Despite the various events that had helped to distract her throughout the day and at the masquerade ball, she was ready to dig up some more solid leads for this case.

Counting to make sure she had the right one, the lady detective debated whether or not she should knock on the door of Archie and Wanda’s suite. She attempted a slight tap, followed by another before pausing with her ear up against the door.

Nothing, but silence.

She then tried the door handle, which remained securely locked. Quickly glancing up and down the murkily lit hallway, she quickly produced her lockpick after silence stubbornly persisted on the other side of the door.

Swinging the only slightly creaky door aside a crack, Phryne slipped inside and began to tiptoe her way through the parlour. She immediately noticed the haphazardly abandoned pharaoh’s headpiece on one of the chaise lounges, but no one else about the room. The emptiness seeped inside, making her heart sink. Perhaps Jack and Wanda really were doing all they could to maintain their cover.

But, she still had to find him and alert him of her latest lead, even if it meant disturbing him and _Mrs Jones_ from their slumber.

Just as she was about to reach for the bedroom door’s handle, however, Phryne suddenly sensed someone’s presence behind her. She quickly whirled around, the end of her golden pistol pointing directly into the face of a very tense Wanda who quickly swore under her breath.

“What on earth are _you_ doing here?” Jack’s faux-wife breathed out angrily. “I woke up from the tapping noises so thought I had better come investigate.”

She quickly put down the gigantic vase she had managed to lift over her head.

“I really need to talk to Jack!” Phryne whispered unapologetically. “Is he asleep?”

“No, I actually haven’t seen him since I went to bed earlier.” Wanda made her way towards the larger furniture of the parlour. “Judging from the looks of things, I’m not sure if he made it to bed or not. He never changed into his pyjamas.”

Ignoring the twinge at hearing this other woman mentioning Jack and his nightclothes, Phryne made a prompt decision.

“All right, I’m going to need your help then. To find Jack.”

“Go on,” Wanda encouraged her with a flick of the hand before crossing her arms again and leaning against the side table.

“I haven’t had the chance to tell anyone, including Jack, about something that I found last night. Inside the stone sarcophagus,” she rushed through the explanation, willing the panic that triggered to not flood her throat.

Wanda waited patiently as Phryne dug through her inner trouser pocket to produce the signet ring with its unusual jewel. Suddenly, Wanda widened her eyes before turning to rush back into the bedroom.

“Look, I have an idea! But it’s going to be easier to show you then tell you,” her voice carried through from the other room. “Plus, you’re right, we may as well go looking for the inspector together. I think I know where he may have gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just give me two ticks to get dressed.”

Phryne had no choice but to murmur her agreement as she sat down on the other chaise and leaned over to finger Jack’s costume with a worried frown.

Where _had_ Inspector Robinson disappeared to…again?

 

*-*-*

 

The shadows watched as the two women crept down the rest of the hallway before pausing in front of a massive floor to ceiling tapestry, similar to others on display throughout the estate. Even in the dim light, Phryne could make out the intricate embroidered pattern portraying a scene of frolicking sea nymphs from ancient Greek mythology. With a brief glance back at Phryne, Wanda silently lifted the heavy material and disappeared behind it with Phryne close on her heels.

_How delicious, a secret passageway!_

Phryne’s curiosity thrilled as they crept along the narrow passageway following the beams of their torches. At times, it seemed to follow the length of the house’s wall and reach seeming dead ends. Wanda confidently seemed to know which bricks to press at these points revealing more hidden doors that led to several spiral staircases that took them down lower and lower.

Eventually, they arrived at a little anteroom that looked slightly more disturbed than the rest of the passageway. Phryne stooped down with her light to study the number of different marks and footprints trampling the dust that floated up around their portable lights.

“This was as far as I got last night,” Wanda’s barely audible confession startled Phryne out of her examination of the dusty ground. “After I left you in the ballroom, I was heading back to our room to find Inspector Robinson.

“I had come up the servant’s stairs instead of the landing, and then spotted something reflecting in my flash light’s beam. It was on the floor by the edge of the tapestry, which I saw had been moved slightly. That’s when I discovered the hidden door, and managed to work my way all the way down here.”

Phryne shone her light at the wall Wanda was referring to, taking in the layers of bricks that didn’t seem especially eager to reveal their secrets.

“But, when I couldn’t get through this section, I tried retracing my steps back up to the tapestry. But, that door wouldn’t open either…” she trailed off slightly then with the first tinge of uncertainty in her tone Phryne had heard since first encountering the mysterious woman. “Then, I tried searching for any other possible exits and entrances along the way. But they were all tightly sealed too."

Phryne’s reservations loosened slightly as she assessed her counterpart’s reticence in admitting any trace of possible weakness.

“Eventually, Casey and Inspector Robinson were able to get that first door behind the tapestry opened again…so I could finally get out. I think the inspector may have returned tonight to see what I had described to them both.”

Even if the woman had found herself trapped in his narrow passageway for hours on end, Phryne knew she wasn’t about to admit how the terrible experience had affected her. Wanda wasn’t the fragile, fainting type, and obviously didn’t appreciate being coddled. This was something Phryne could respect and grudgingly identify with all too well.

“What was it that you found outside the tapestry and hidden door?” The lady detective honed in on this little detail.

“Ah, that. Here, let me show you.” It was Wanda’s turn to delve into an inner hiding place. She withdrew a tiny, golden object and held it out to Phryne whose heart sank when she immediately recognised the tie pin. “I didn’t want to leave it in our room.”

“That crest,” Phryne trailed off in disbelief. It was one that she was very familiar with.

“Yes, Inspector Robinson informed me about it just this evening,” Wanda responded sympathetically.

Phryne also remembered Jack’s attempts to inform her as well. And her subsequent reaction to it, she recalled with a slight stab of shame.

“But why would Alfie’s tie pin be right at the entrance to this secret passageway?”

“That’s what the inspector was determined to find out.”

Phryne’s heart sped up suddenly as she instinctively agreed. They had to find Jack! And quickly!

“All right then, show me what you worked out when you reached this point.”

“I made sure to memorize all the sequences,” Wanda returned her focus to the wall before them. “But, something’s missing. Like a key. A very tiny one that should fit right in here.”

This time, Phryne’s mind whirred alive as it did when a puzzle piece fell into piece. She again dug about her pockets to withdraw the ring.

Flashing her a tiny, but knowing smile, Wanda refocused her attention on the wall before them. Phryne moved back to give her more space, shining both of their electric torches onto the masonry as Wanda returned to the brick’s patterns. Phryne followed her various attempts until she, too, could recognise the sequences.

“There!” she shone the light down into the far right corner just before Wanda bent down to press the brick’s corner. Nothing happened.

“This is what happened last night,” Wanda admitted.

“But, that’s because you didn’t have this last night.” Phryne knelt down and slid the ring into the odd little slot.

And, then, they were rewarded with a loud whooshing noise as the secret door swung open, ushering in a cool gush of slightly musty, yet salty air that revealed some type of large cellar room. Various large crates filled with netting and packaging stood stacked close to the far wall. After the darkness of the passageway, their eyes adjusted to the illuminated traces of natural light peeking through the outline of a larger door that Wanda instantly set off to examine.

Phryne again noticed what looked like a set of several different yet fresh footprints in the thin layer of dust…no, _sand_ , on the cellar’s floor. Bending down, she could make out two larger sets and then what looked like drag marks leading over to the other larger door that Wanda was struggling in vain to budge.

“Here, let me,” Phryne called out as she made her way over whilst extracting her lock pick.

“I think I can hear water on the other side,” Wanda told her with her ear still against the door as Phryne approached.

“Curiouser and curiouser!” She quickly went to work and easily released the well-oiled lock’s mechanisms with a loud click. Together, the two women slid the heavy wooden door open to reveal a hidden, private dock within a larger tunnel that obviously ran beneath the house with no boat in sight. Wanda started to look around the dock as Phryne began to poke through one of the slightly opened crates.

Suddenly, a low groaning noise rumbled from a larger crate nearby.

“Quick, I think someone’s in here!” Phryne quickly called to Wanda who instantly turned to rush back inside the cellar. The two of them scrambled to push off the wooden pallet lid, and began pulling out various pieces of packaging material.

To reveal an unconscious Inspector Robinson at the bottom.

“ _Jack!”_ Phryne frantically climbed up onto another crate to leverage herself as she leaned down to reach for him. “We’ve got to get him out of here!”

Before Wanda could agree, a deafening boom sounded as the doorway to the passageway slammed closed.

For the second night in a row, the two women once again found themselves trapped.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne discovers more about her feelings for Jack Robinson...as well as the true identity of Wanda Jones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all such true treasures! Thank you for the encouraging comments about my travel woes and your ongoing and absolutely delightful feedback about this fic (I'm quite chuffed you all liked the part about Jack's pyjamas, LOL!). I hope you enjoy this significant next installment!

Phryne had always secretly admired Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson’s uncanny ability to remain perfectly still. This ability to mask his true emotions served him well in unnerving the most hardened of criminals. She had also witnessed (and been the grateful recipient of) how his rock-like essence had calmed the fears of more than one upset soul, particularly during times of great distress.

Now, as she cradled his head and shoulders gently in her lap, however, this particular stillness of his dear features began to chill her to her core. It was one thing to know that his usually steady exterior was harnessing the great passions and energy that she knew brimmed beneath his stuffy suits. It was completely another when his motionless figure resembled a hauntingly empty shell.

In efforts to escape the fear threatening to overwhelm her, she smoothed her fingers down his solid jaw to rest them against his neck where she could feel the reassuring flutter of his pulse again. As though sensing her apprehension, he moved his face slightly towards her hand, his throat issuing a welcome little grumble of sound.

Phryne quickly moved her other hand over to soothe the area around the side of his head where she suspected something extremely hard had connected with it at some point. She grimaced when her fingers traced some of the dried blood now matting a patch of his dark golden locks, grateful that there didn’t seem to be any sign of his wound emitting any fresh haemorrhaging.

She narrowed her eyes all the same as any trace of lingering fear instantly began to boil inside her blood. Nobody hurt _her_ inspector and got away with it, especially not on her watch!

“Is he coming to yet?” Wanda’s voice carried over from where she was busy emptying another crate.

“No, not yet. But, he’s moving a bit more, ” Phryne reported with much relief as his face relaxed from a wincing expression as soon as she soothed her fingers tenderly across his forehead.

She was grateful for the other woman’s quick thinking earlier that had produced a crowbar that they had used to carefully open the crate ensconcing Jack. Together, they had assessed the damage and agreed he shouldn’t be moved until he regained consciousness. Phryne had insisted on climbing into the remaining corner so she could cushion him and continue monitoring him herself.

In the meantime, Wanda had continued her reconnaissance of the other remaining crates that revealed various Egyptian treasures and artifacts. Both of them had begun to mull over why these hadn’t all been unpacked and added to the gallery displays in the main house. In fact, these seemed to be packaged up and ready to be shipped out instead to an address in England.

“He doesn’t strike me as the invalid type,” Wanda continued. “Ah, that makes a complete set of what looks like some extremely ornate, albeit gruesome burial jars.”

“No, he’s definitely anything but,” Phryne concurred, again wondering just how long or well Wanda knew her undercover husband. “I gather he’s not been, er, incapacitated during any previous cases with you then?”

She noted the pause in activity before hearing Wanda’s slightly muffled voice.

“I’ve actually never had the pleasure of meeting the good inspector until this assignment.”

 _How curious!_ Phryne glanced down again at Jack’s silent features, willing him to wake up and brief her on all the details that her mind wanted to puzzle out.

“There, that’s another crate I’ve gone through, and definitely recognise some replicas from the exhibit upstairs.” Wanda returned and balanced herself on another smaller crate nearby.

The woman took in Phryne’s unspoken questions. “I was actually just finishing up my last assignment…in New York,” she then crossed her legs and began to swing the top one back and forth as she continued her tale.“Then the next lead pointed to Australia. So, my chief sent word to continue following the trail all the way here.

“Chief mentioned an undercover assignment with a local contact. By the time we arrived, Inspector Robinson was there to brief us...and so, here we are!” She gave a little shrug of her shoulder indicating that was all there was to it.

“I see,” Phryne took in this new bit of information. “So, you didn’t arrive here alone then?”

Wanda flashed her a knowing grin. “No, my usual investigative partner is here as well. He was really disappointed that our cover stories wouldn’t have us working directly together this time around. But, it sure has been a treat seeing him decked out in full livery day in and day out!”

“Ah, you mean that footman!” Phryne quickly worked it out. “Casey?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Wanda flashed her an amused smirk that also doubled up as a slight salute for figuring out that piece of information.

“Shortly after I’d arrived and received our briefing, I read up on the stories about Melbourne’s famous detecting duo.” Wanda rolled her eyes slightly when she continued. “Although, they really didn’t do your brilliance justice, which is typical with most male reporters.”

Phryne preened slightly and smiled in amused agreement.

“Besides, I could tell by your disguise and excellent shorthand notes that you certainly know your stuff!”

“I was wondering why you seemed so interested in my notebook.”

Wanda stood up and began to poke through another crate nearby. “Although, I must admit that I _have_ been wondering why you and Inspector Robinson hadn’t been assigned this particular case together?”

The lady detective paused visibly, not sure where to begin explaining something she still didn’t fully grasp herself.

“Er, well. It has become rather complicated at the moment,” Phryne began hesitantly. “We’ve actually not been working together…for quite some time now.”

Wanda looked over with an empathetic expression at her unconscious undercover partner being held like a fragile egg by its protective mother hen.

“Wait, let me guess,” she interrupted abruptly, which Phryne now understood to simply be her style. “You met on a mutual case, hit it off right away, and continued working on a lot more cases together.”

She started ticking points off on the finger of one hand. “Then, he grew feelings for _you_ , but wasn’t at liberty to act on them. Plus, he wasn’t sure you felt the same way.”

The other woman barrelled onward, ignoring her counterpart’s widening eyes.

“Eventually, you’ve only recently discovered the extent of your own feelings for _him_. And now, since all these feelings have basically messed up your working relationship, and the rest of your lives to boot, he’s bailed out on you?”

“I can’t _believe_ he told you all that,” Phryne whispered in outraged disbelief, and not without a fresh pang of jealousy that Jack would have confided such raw details of their relationship with a complete stranger! Especially one who was posing as his wife!

“Whoa, hold your horses, ma’am!” Wanda held out her hands out in mock surrender to mimic the exaggerated cowboy’s twang she had just adopted. “Inspector Robinson never breathed a word of this to me!”

She huffed out an amused laugh at Phryne’s incredulous glare.

“Then how did you know all that?”

“You, of all people, should give me some credit, Miss Fisher! Coming from one lady investigator to another!” she smirked again as she watched Phryne processing this truth.

Wanda’s expression sobered, however, at Phryne’s continued mortification. “Look, I know all this, mostly, because I’m speaking from personal experience.”

Phryne’s eyes widened from this admission. “Do you mean…you and Casey?”

“Bingo! He and I have been through the wringer!” The other woman jumped up and began pacing, waving her arms to accentuate her words. “I mean, we’ve gone through everything including exposing high profile murders and other crimes, mistaken identities, countless abductions, memory loss…oh, and my almost marrying a world-class psychopath…” she trailed off as the memories flitted through her expressive eyes.

Phryne could only continue to stare in amazement as Wanda paced back and forth telling her story.

“But through it all, we’ve been able to discover and acknowledge..., well, basically, cement our love for one another. Though I think he’s suffered a lot longer because I took my sweet time admitting it.” She grinned wickedly, pausing to acknowledge this fact almost more for her own benefit than that of her captive audience.

“So…are you married then?”

“Nearly. That’s been rather complicated as well,” Wanda replied cryptically. “But at least he accepted my proposal in the end.”

Phryne couldn’t help sharing a conspiratorial grin with this remarkable woman whom she was glad she could now count as an ally.

“If you don’t mind my asking, just exactly who are you? You don’t strike me as belonging to the constabulary somehow. Even in America!”

Wanda suddenly marched over to stand in front of Miss Fisher. She extended her hand with her now familiar smugness. Phryne took it with a curious sparkle in her eyes.

“Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Pleased to meet you!”

“Good god,” came a raspy moan in response.

“ _Jack!_ ” Both women cried out in unison as he struggled to sit up.

“I think I liked it better when you two weren’t colluding! My sanity, and the safety of every other man and villain, is now at risk.”

He winced slightly as consciousness rapidly reminded him of his head’s stabbing pains that were all clamouring for his attention. Phryne swatted his hand away from touching the wound, as much as to prevent him from causing more harm as well as to hide the sudden rush of emotions threatening to erupt.

“Steady on, Inspector, I’d say it’s your head that’s most at risk now.”

Jack’s reply was suddenly cut short by the sound of the passageway door rumbling again, this time swinging open. He immediately ducked back down silently until they could determine whether their visitor was friend or foe.

Wanda, or Lois, rather, jumped up, and started advancing towards the entryway’s direction, the crowbar securely back in her hand.

“Don’t worry, Jack,” Phryne whispered into his ear, relishing the feeling of him fully alert and now back in her arms again. “We’re in superb hands.”

“Super,” came his sardonic mutter in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...what do you think?! 
> 
> The idea of introducing Phryne to Lois Lane was embedded into my brain thanks to the lovely @comeaftermejackrobinson when we discovered our mutual love for the 1990s TV series, Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman (which was my first real fandom during my teen years!). We kept talking about the similarities as well as the differences between the two and wondered what it would be like if they were ever to meet. 
> 
> After discovering that DC Comics actually introduced Lois to the world in 1938, I thought, hey, why not? So, I just moved her timeframe back by a decade...and voila!
> 
> Now, I hope you'll be able to continue enjoying the rest of the story in earnest!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being rescued from the secret cellar and having to endure the passageway again, Phryne plays nurse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been _soooo_ delighted by all of your amazing responses to my previous chapter! 
> 
> As promised, here is the next installment that I am dedicating to Quiltingmom and Federalistdarling who have been motivating me after every new chapter that I post. I adore hearing from the rest of you who have been commenting, leaving kudos, and still faithfully following along!
> 
> Hope this new chapter will start to make all the angst a little bit worthwhile!

Perhaps it was the hollowness left by the evening’s receding adrenaline and spiralling emotions. Or, quite simply, the novelty had worn off from too many encounters with darkened and confined stone spaces for one night. Whatever the reason, Phryne wasn’t quite as eager to find herself in the narrow passageway again.

 _Although, there’s certainly a lot more to recommend itself this time around_ , she reasoned with herself as she reached out in the semi-darkness to tuck her hand into the crook of Jack’s elbow. If he noticed that her grip was a tad stronger than usual, the inspector didn’t let on. Instead, as though sensing her slight unease, he simply slid his hand down until it locked securely with her own as they continued along.

Just ahead, Lois’ torchlight bounced along the corridor as she and her partner retraced their way back up through the house’s secret labyrinth. Casey, or _Clark Kent_ , as they had just learned, had followed his hunch to track down Lois’ leads through this particular passageway. He had become suspicious when no one had answered his knock at the Joneses’ rooms earlier, and more so after he had realised that their suite was completely empty. More than concerned, Clark had been visibly relieved to discover his fiancée (especially before she could do any serious damage with that crowbar) and her undercover partner together with _his_ partner, Fern. They were alive, if not completely well, in the hidden cellar.

“It’s only a scratch,” Jack had informed Clark earlier, launching into a quick account of the events that led him to be knocked out and then packaged up inside one of the wooden pallets. As though sensing Phryne’s ire over his being mistreated, he tried to deflect any concern from himself. “I’m now more concerned over Lady Edlington’s whereabouts and well-being than ever.”

Phryne again mulled over Jack’s earlier revelation that he had encountered the distressed lady of the house outside the ballroom after the ball had finished, and the guests had retreated for the night. He told her the excuse that he was looking for a twilight snack, but didn’t want to wake any of the servants. Portia had informed Archibald that she was prone to sleepwalking, and that the gruesome events at the aborted auction had sparked the return of her nocturnal habits.

Jack had immediately tried to offer his assistance based on his naturally innate sense of honour. Just as they had climbed the grand staircase, Lady Edlington had assured him she would send someone by his rooms with a tray, after Jack had politely declined her invitation to accompany her back to her wing. He had then waited before resuming his own nighttime “walk.”

Then, as he had neared the tapestry with the hidden door, someone had appeared from behind him with a very heavy object to the inspector’s head. He never had the opportunity to see whoever the fiend was or how they had managed to drag him down to the cellar.

This had then prompted Phryne to dig through her inner pockets to again present the ruby signet ring that she had spotted the night before inside the slightly opened sarcophagus, resulting in her chilly entrapment. All of them immediately recognised it as belonging to their host, Lord Edlington, who had been wearing it whilst he had been welcoming and introducing his guests the evening before. What exactly was that affable gentleman’s part in this growing puzzle?

Jack’s reassuring squeeze to her fingers brought Phryne back to the present, alerting her to the fact that she had clamped onto his hand like a vise. He continued to rub his thumb across the skin on the back of her own, creating wonderful sensations that banished any further thoughts about the case or any memory of night time terrors. This shouldn’t at all surprise her. After all, hadn’t she once asked him to be there for her, to remind her to not be afraid of shadows?

True to his word, he had been there to help fight the shadows and brutal reality during that horribly terrifying time when Jane had been cruelly abducted. Then, he was still there by her side when they had found beloved Janey again. Just when she had thought her splintered heart couldn’t shatter even more, she had reached out blindly as she balanced there in anguish at the sight of her dear sister’s remains. And, his hand had anchored her then. Just as it was doing now.

And since those moments had been surrounded by Foyle and his insane obsession with Egyptian antiquities, there was little wonder why their current one had been haunting her so thoroughly. In fact, it made her secretly savour this very moment even more because she knew it was also an unexpected haven in the midst of a storm that had been brewing around the two of them long before this case had even begun.

If she was to be completely honest with herself, Jack had captivated her from the very start in a heady mixture of familiar burning feelings that were laced with sweet yearnings of something more alien to her. Something more that drove her absolutely mad from both fear of losing herself, and fear of discovering something that she wouldn’t want to or couldn’t be able to surrender herself to.

Now, she was beginning to understand that this wasn’t just some _thing_ , but some _one_. And instead of a drowning abyss, she knew beyond a smidgen of a doubt that being with Jack, having him by her side gave her the solid platform from which she could soar even higher. Witnessing his deathly stillness earlier had given her a brief glimpse of how close she had come to losing the opportunity to build something from the ruins of their recent impasse.

For the first time in a while and especially since the recent stalemate of their estrangement, Phryne tasted the blessed surge of hope and renewed purpose. From this point on, she wasn’t going to allow her inspector to walk out on her ever again. She was going to fight for them.

Again, as though he could sense her sudden change in mood, Jack slowed his stride just ever so slightly to glance down at her pointedly. Her own eyes responded instantly, whilst the rest of her had to physically refrain from launching herself at him, head injury notwithstanding. Because there was no mistaking the mirrored resolve and smouldering expression emanating from his usually reserved features.

He quirked his mouth at her then, and unexpectedly bent down to press his lips against the pulse point along her neck in a promising flicker before she could even react.

Blinking at him in delighted surprise, she yanked on his hand in a sudden flurry and started dragging him along at a quicker pace, nearly running into the others in her impatience.

 

*-*-*

 

“Stop moving, Jack!”

“Is it large enough? Are you sure it’s going to fit?”

“Patience, Inspector. There! Now you can move about all you like, but do try to be gentle.”

“Just as you’ve been roughly demonstrating? Is this how you treated all those other poor fellows?”

“Well, I must admit, none of them seemed to mind the ministrations of my hands half as much as you!”

He winced slightly as she loudly snipped off another stray piece of the gauze she had wound around nearly the entire top half of his head.

“Phryne,” he reached for her hand brandishing the potential weapon. “Thank you. Even though I do believe I’d prefer to not be prepared for mummification quite yet.”

She put down the scissors and leaned in closer to fuss over the collar of his, or, Archie’s, fine silk pyjamas, coyly staring up into his eyes.

“Enough words, Inspector Robinson.”

“I agree, Nurse Fisher.”

This time, she grabbed handfuls of the silky material to anchor herself as she attacked those lips she had memorized and been mesmerized by for longer than she cared to count. The two of them melted together with relief in the delightful harbour of one another’s arms, lapping up the other’s voracious desire and allowing all the pent-up angst that had been dammed up between them to ebb away.

They both groaned at the sudden knock at the door.

“So sorry to disturb,” Lois had entered, but paused by the doorway, so only her voice came around to the open side of the canopied bed.

“But, the maid will be here soon with Mr Jones’ breakfast. I figured he shouldn’t be wandering down to the dining room in his current condition. Falling out of bed can be such a nasty business after all.”

They then heard her rustling around briefly before retreating back to the suite’s parlour to keep a lookout for the servant girl’s arrival.

“I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point after the garden party luncheon,” the reporter added quietly without waiting for a response before closing the door behind her.

“Looks like that might be my cue to disappear as well,” Phryne reluctantly remarked, trailing her fingers tenderly through Jack’s errant curls bent on escaping her handiwork. “Either way, I do need to transform back into Fern before more eyes are about.”

She caressed the smattering of light ones across his chest that had become rather exposed during their ardent reconciliation before quickly redoing his pyjama buttons up.

“Phryne, please, be careful,” Jack caught one of her hands and gently kissed each finger as she slowly slid off the side of the bed to stand up. “Remember to wait at the rendezvous point for one of us before you attempt anything else.”

“I’ll try, Jack,” she leaned down for a lingering farewell kiss. “You be safe too.”

“I intend to. Besides, the next time either of us decides to get locked away in a tight space, I’d prefer it to involve a lot less intrigue of the murderous variety.” His mouth lifted slightly at the corner in his amused expression, which Phryne quickly pressed her lips against. “But definitely a lot of intrigue…and variety!”

She smouldered at his outright grin suggestively. At his searing response, she joined in before righting herself again.

“Excellent choice, Inspector! I believe that can certainly be arranged!”

With that, she whirled away leaving him enveloped in a dizzying cloud of sunshine.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are cordially invited to attend Lord and Lady Edlington's Gala Garden Extravaganza. And, Miss Fisher and the Inspector do what they can to ensure they don't blow their cover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for ALL the love and enthusiasm for my last chapter. Here...have some more HEART EYES!

Lord and Lady Edlington’s extravagant garden party gala was to mark the finale of their premier exhibit event before the remaining antiquities would be moved back into the city for the start of the Melbourne Fair venue. Or as Portia Edlington had phrased it, they had to relinquish the treasures for the sake of the “commoners” who should also have the opportunity to be exposed to true art and history, especially when they couldn’t afford to buy it for themselves.

Their premier guests were enjoying a delectable luncheon under the luxurious canopy of a massive marquee. Beneath it, the guests were surrounded by palm trees, hanging plants, and several stunning waterfalls arrayed in various fountains throughout large tent to represent the Nile.

Despite the obviously expensive efforts, none of it really impressed Phryne as she pushed the roast pheasant on her plate around in a circle. She smiled slightly in amusement at Alfie’s ongoing monologue at some new collection of hieroglyphs for which he had managed to garner the winning bid from the previous evening’s auction.

He broke off momentarily when Lord Edlington stood up to again introduce both the British and Egyptian ambassadors and their wives. He then invited each to stand and give a brief speech soon as the dessert was served.

“Honestly, he ought to pay more attention to Portia instead of embarrassing himself before those prats.”

“Why, Alfie, I never took you to be much into the political.”

“Well, one must pay attention once and while, my dear, when one’s passion delves into other regions. But, it’s been no secret that Edlington’s been hankering after some crème de la crème diplomatic position for some time now.”

“Do tell,” Phryne encouraged as she immediately recalled the new leads that Jack had discovered before Portia, and then his attacker had interrupted the night before. He had managed to unearth what looked to be some official-looking government documents in a hidden compartment of Lord Edlington’s personal bureau. They were all stamped with his wax seal and looked to contain some highly classified state secrets that were addressed to the Egyptian authorities. He was unable to find out more when he had heard the sleepwalking lady of the house, and had to abandon his hunt.

“That’s just it. There’s not much to tell because it seems nothing much has been forthcoming about it at all. I just wish he’d leave his career ambitions out of this event, which should be focused on the antiquities themselves.” His stony expression brightened visibly at the flummery that Casey (Clark, rather!) had just placed before him.

Phryne shook her head and reached up to pat a pin back into place against her wig, using the movement as an excuse to glance over at the main table where Lois and Jack (now fully back in Archie mode with a lot less bandaging) were seated with the Edlingtons and the diplomats. The two of them had agreed to shadow their hosts as much as possible today to learn what they could and decipher the clues pointing to the couple.

Miss Fisher narrowed her eyes suddenly as Lady Edlington leaned over and tried to offer Jack a spoonful of her dessert, which he managed to decline by taking a mouthful from his own dish. Phryne relaxed slightly and beamed when he looked up at that moment to flash the exact same smirk he had worn during that delicious moment not too long after they had first met. He, too, remembered when she had attempted to feed him that delicious gratin and that she had actually succeeded.

She returned her attention to her lunch companion, expecting another sardonic exposition. Instead, she noticed how Alfie sagged slightly and loosened the hold of his beautiful silk tie.

“Are you feeling all right, Alfie? You’ve not really seemed yourself this afternoon.”

“Oh, it’s nothing to be concerned about, old thing. I’m just a bit jittery at the extra police presence today. The last time they showed up, they confiscated my treasures, and held them in lord knows what abysmal conditions before they eventually released them to me.”

Phryne patted his hand in consolation as Jack’s suspicions about Alfie’s involvement tugged at her mind.

“It’s why I’m so relieved you’ve been here with me this weekend, Phryne,” he grasped her hand gratefully in return. “I do hope you’ll manage to discover something to put my mind at ease.”

“Is there anything else I can get you, Miss? My lord?” Clark suddenly appeared to enquire, the picture of the perfect manservant. He raised his eyebrow pointedly at Phryne, reminding her of the rendezvous plan. She gave him a slight nod to indicate she hadn’t forgotten.

As the ambassadorial speeches concluded, Lord Edlington again rose to bid his guests enjoy the remainder of the gala afternoon. The garden orchestra then struck up some jaunty jazz number as the guests slowly rose and began to mingle or dance. Others wandered over to the croquet on the lawn.

“Well, Lord Severn, I must be off, I’m afraid. I’ve promised to go riding with a dashing fellow.”

“All right, my dear,” Alfie sighed resignedly. “I’ve noticed that Toddy has been bestowing you a lot of attention of late. Do be careful, although I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself. Enjoy!”

With a final wave, Phryne retrieved her notebook and handbag, and sauntered off to change into her riding clothes.

 

*-*-*

 

Phryne slowed slightly as she approached the stone building, something prompting her to instinctively crouch down below the first window that had been opened wide due to the growing heat of the day. Two angry voices floated out towards her, crisply slicing through the still air.

“Do you have no restraint, woman? Honestly! Normally, I really could care less about your _indiscretions_ , but not when they impinge on my honour and career aspirations!”

“Please, Harold, you know that has absolutely nothing to do with me whatsoever! I’ve done my part in organising this entire extravagant weekend and played the simpering, empty-headed wife whilst you fawn at your beloved guests!”

“Fine! At least try to keep up some appearances of our _marriage_ until the guests have left. No need to be flinging yourself and spooning your dinner at them in front of the entire world.”

“You got what you wanted from this farce of a marriage, Harold, just as I have. So now that you’ve got a sizeable chunk of my family’s money, you ought to just go and enjoy it. And leave me alone!”

The sound of a horse galloping off at top speed indicated the conversation had come to an end.

Phryne could sense him before he appeared, straightening suddenly and whirling around to place a gloved finger against his frowning lips.

Jack nodded. Then, dropping his riding crop abruptly, he reached out to wrap his hands around her hips and pushed her against the wall in one smooth movement. Their foreheads connected just as both of their breathing began to elevate heavily.

“Why, Inspector,” Phryne began to whisper before he stopped her with a flutter of his gloved fingers across her lips. His eyes glanced to the side furtively before he bent to nuzzle her neck with his nose, more than eager to use the excuse of hiding his face to continue his exploration.

Struggling to keep focused, Phryne glanced over his shoulder at that moment to see Lois approach the main entrance of the stable just in time to greet Lord Edlington as he was about to retreat from the building. She too ducked her head against the shoulder of Archie’s tweed riding jacket when Lois quickly glanced their way.

“Why, Lord Edlington,” Lois all but purred at him in her best, sultry Wanda impression. “Are you coming or going?”

“Why, hello, Mrs Jones. I, er, well, I think I have suddenly changed my mind, and don’t feel up for a ride after all. But don’t let me stop you from enjoying a little jaunt.”

“Nonsense! In fact, I’ve actually just decided that it’s getting a tad too warm to be finding myself astride a horse.”

“Well, in that case, would you care to accompany me back to the marquee for something a little more refreshing?”

“I’d be delighted…” her voice trailed off as the two tangled detectives watched the intrepid reporter stroll away with their host, giving a quick wave behind her back to indicate that they should go on without her.

“Did you hear him and Portia just now?” Phryne strained to keep her tone at a whispered level, mostly because her lips were in such close proximity to Jack’s rather tantalizing ear lobe. She couldn’t resist a quick nibble.

Jack jumped slightly, but nodded, his attention quickly honing back in on the vibrant woman in his arms. Glancing around, he quickly stole a kiss from her red lips before stepping back reluctantly from her. His eyes danced mischievously as he bent down to retrieve his riding crop before tilting his head in the direction of the stables.

“Shall we, Miss Robins? Or is the heat getting too much for you as well?”

“Never, Archie!” She intoned flirtatiously with one of her saucy smiles. With a toss of her blonde curls, she turned to lead the way towards the entrance.

“You know I’ve always enjoyed playing with fire.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phrack are still in riding gear...and then Archie also gets to don some cricket whites. And, in case of being overloaded by the fluff, we return to the case!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, you are ALL amazing for my writer's ego! Thanks for all of your fab comments and encouragement, I really can't express how much I love seeing each new comment and will respond to them soon. For now, hope you enjoy this next chapter!
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the later posting, but my colleagues and I discovered this awesome "secret" speakeasy here in Atlanta tonight that required a secret code that we had to dial on this rotary phone inside a red phone box in order to gain access. It was all 1920s-style with silent films playing, jazz music...and a cigar bar! All that was missing was all of you...and Miss Fisher and Jack, of course!

The two detectives slowed their mounts to a light trot after racing one another to a shady avenue close to the other side of the lake from where they had gone rowing.

“I never knew you could ride, Jack! Or so well!”

“Sadly, there’s not much need for it on the force anymore these days. Or in the city.”

“Well, you must come out to help me exercise Aunt P and Guy’s lovely breeds any time.”

“I’d be delighted, Miss Fisher. Although, I’m not quite certain your aunt would feel the same.”

“Oh, nonsense, Jack, she’s a harmless kitty under her tigress mantle!”

“Both of which still have claws that I’d rather not have to dig out of my hide.”

Phryne nudged her horse over closer so that her knee nudged the inspector’s playfully as she glanced suggestively at his well-clad hide. She couldn’t tell if he actually blushed in response or whether he was slightly flushed from all of the exertion.

“So, what do you make of our friendly hosts, Jack?”

“There’s certainly no love lost between them. Lois was able to return to the library earlier when everyone was still at breakfast. She found enough evidence to confirm that other letters and documents that she and Clark had found in New York match Lord Edlington’s seal and handwriting in the government ones I had found.”

“But, why would he go to all the trouble of murdering not just one, but two high-profiled politicians when he’s trying to secure a high-profiled post himself?”

“I’ve got Collins looking into the victims’ profiles. Maybe they knew something that would prevent him from realising his goals.”

“And what about Lord E’s signet ring? And Portia’s so-called sleepwalking? If anyone could find out more, it’d definitely have to be you, Jack. She’s obviously smittened!” Despite her bantering tone, Jack was both amused and secretly satisfied by the jealous undertone to her voice.

Suddenly, Jack stopped his horse and held up a finger to his lips. Phryne glanced beyond the trees, and quickly halted and dismounted from her own. Jack followed suit. They spotted a couple of other horses tethered to a bush closer to the lake’s edge. Their riders were nowhere to be seen. Since they hadn’t come across anyone else thus far, the two of them silently agreed to find out who else had slipped away so far from the rest of the party.

Picking their way as quietly as possible through the trees, they crept up behind a copse of beech trees and peered around the trunks. Eyes widening, they glanced quickly at each other, and backed away momentarily just as a woman’s giggle rang out followed by a series of deeper moans punctuating the air.

Phryne knelt down to peer through the screen of a nearby bush instead, and sat back against the heels of her riding boots when she recognised the reddish blonde curls that she had admired in a rowing boat and later during a tango across a ballroom floor. More surprising was the fact that Lady Portia Edlington was running her fingers through those very curls and other aspects of Jonathan Toddington-Barry’s bare torso from her very interesting position against him.

Jack suddenly reached down his hand towards her. She gratefully accepted and nodded in response to the lift of his eyebrows and tilt of his chin back towards the direction from where they had come. Phryne bounced quickly to her feet, brushing off some foliage from her riding trousers, slightly envying the eager lovers for their afternoon tryst.

 _All the more reason to get this case solved_ , she determined with a seductive glance to her partner. Although she couldn’t get enough of seeing the inspector arrayed in Archie’s fine riding gear, she was certainly more than looking forward to helping him out of it. His eyes reflected the hint of a promise as he squeezed her hand in response. Hand-in-hand, the two of them swiftly made their way back through the little grove towards their waiting horses.

 

*-*-*

 

Wanda Jones stood back with a confident smirk at the satisfying _thwack_ of her mallet against the croquet ball. It connected to the next one in the series just as she spotted her “husband” ducking into the refreshments side of the marquee. The fact he had changed into his cricket whites indicated that he and Fern had returned from their horse ride, and perhaps had unearthed some more clues for their investigation.

She promptly dropped the mallet and began to pretend to sway slightly, throwing her hand up dramatically to her forehead.

“Oh, my dear, are you quite all right? I dare say this abominable heat is bent on doing the lot of us in,” her companion, Maud Ashridge, one of Melbourne’s newest society ladies rushed over with her fan. The well-meaning lady began to flap it rather ineffectively at Wanda.

Mrs Jones allowed herself to droop slowly just as a pair of strong hands slid under her own and lifted her up smoothly into solid arms.

“Do take her immediately to the protection of the shade, young man,” Mrs Ashridge directed the handsome footman who had arrived just in time. “Oh, where has Portia disappeared to? Perhaps we should also have the doctor called!”

“I will do my utmost to ensure Mrs Jones is well cared for, madam,” Casey reassured the fretting woman in a soothing tone. He quickly turned away from the croquet game, and made his way as quickly as possible back over to the marquee.

Spotting a well-cushioned garden chaise longue by one of the more elaborate and loud water fountains, he made his way over to it just as Archibald rushed over. Concern etched his features as he crouched down and took his wife’s limp hand in his own. Wanda opened her eyes and winked up at the two men staring down at her. They both rolled their eyes at one another.

“Well, how else were we going to find the opportunity to chat without everyone else watching or overhearing? So, what have you found out then?”

Archie quickly glanced around, and satisfied that weren’t being observed, he and Wanda quietly informed Casey about the heated conversation they had overheard earlier in the stables. The inspector continued to recount how he and Fern had subsequently discovered the lady of the house and her compromising meeting with Toddington-Barry.

“Are you sure?” Casey asked to which Archie nodded affirmatively. “Only because I just saw him over by the orchestra looking like he was trying to get rather comfortable with Miss Robins.” Jack suddenly jumped up at that bit of information.

“You continue to stay here and rest, my dear,” he said in a louder voice as several people entered the marquee close to their location. “I’m sure that Casey here can fetch you whatever you need. I’ll be back shortly to check in on you again.”

Wanda closed her eyes again after flashing him a contented smile of agreement just as Casey passed her a refreshing cocktail with his own affectionate grin.

 

*-*-*

 

Fern Robins lowered her sunglasses when she sensed a shadow looming over her whilst she lounged on a particularly comfortable, oversized cushion on the lawn. The band continued to play a series of frolicking tunes that several of the other guests were enjoying on the outdoor wooden dance floor. Not too far away, she could see a game of cricket starting up.

She kept her smile pasted on as she recognised the arrogant features of Jonathan Toddington-Barry as he towered over her, still in his riding clothes.

“Why, Toddy, you should have let me know you were planning to go for a ride. I could have joined you!”

“Apologies, my dear Miss Robins, but I’ve actually just returned from a quick one. Best to get it all out of the system so one can settle in to enjoy the rest of the day’s enjoyments.” Phryne quickly hid her growing irritation at his tone, especially when she knew all too well what he was implying even if he didn’t know that she knew.

“In fact, I was wondering if you cared for a quick jaunt across the dance floor before I go join that cricket match?”

“Why, I’d be delighted! I nearly fell asleep here after that delicious luncheon. It would be good to shake things up a bit.”

Taking her hand, he led her over to the wooden floor, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist and pressing her close to his still slightly damp body. Fighting the urge to gag, Phryne tensed slightly and playfully attempted to push away. Thankfully, he didn’t resist when she managed to put some space between them again.

_How did I ever find this cretin remotely attractive?_

“So tell me, Toddy, what else have you been up to today? I’ve barely seen you.”

He spun her quickly before pulling her back close to his side.

“Actually, I managed to close a private deal on this extraordinary find. A nearly completed Ptolemaic collection of gold-plated figurines, in fact. I’m quite pleased with them. You must come and see for yourself.”

“Ones whose authenticity, I very much would question,” another voice suddenly cut into their conversation in a disgusted tone.

“Oh, sod off, Alfie!” Toddy spat out at the other gentleman. “You’re only sore because I managed to snap them up before you could.”

“How was I to know they were even here? They weren’t exactly on display!”

“Perhaps you should pay more attention to opportunities that aren’t right before your eyes then. And you call yourself an archaeologist!”

“Now, now, gentlemen, there’s no need for all this,” Phryne decided to intervene before the situation got more out of hand. “Mr Toddington-Barry was just suggesting that I could come view his new collection. Perhaps you’d like to join us, Lord Severn?”

“What’s the point?” Alfie responded angrily. “They’re not even authentic!” With that, the viscount stormed away moodily as quickly as he had appeared.

Phryne and Toddy resumed their dance just as she noticed Archie Jones stroll by gripping a cricket bat in one hand, and a glass of something sparkling in his other. He stopped momentarily, cocking his head as though to take in the music. The couple danced their way past him.

“Now, Miss Robins, fancy taking a good glimpse of my treasure?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, forcing Phryne to not visibly cringe.

Exaggerating her current movement to the music, she glanced over quickly towards Archie with a slight lift of both her eyebrows. Concern clouded his eyes slightly as he responded with a slight nod and finished his drink. Then, he languidly strolled in the direction of the cricket lawn swinging his arms purposefully. Knowing that her inspector wouldn’t be too far away, Phryne swung back into her dancing partner’s arm with a genuine smile now that more of her usual composure was restored.

“Marvellous idea, Toddy! So, just where have you buried it all then? Hopefully, it won’t take too long to dig out again?” She replied silkily, tracing her hand across his cravat.

“Well, you could always come along to help me get out of these riding clothes first,” he growled, covering her hand with his to pull his necktie off.

“Why don’t you go on and find your valet for that, darling, and let me continue resting my poor little ankle instead?”

He nodded just as the music ended with a final trail of his finger across her neck before promising to return as soon as possible. Phryne let out a brief breathe of relief as she sauntered over towards a group of women, including Lois, who were gossiping and keeping a keen eye at the cricket match unfolding not too far away. This time, she didn’t mind quite so much, and joined in indulgently at their collective admiration of Archie Jones as he stepped up to bat. She definitely disagreed with one lady’s sentiment about cricket being such a long game because she certainly wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day watching Jack showcasing those muscles of his. _And then, the rest of the evening exploring them!_

About half an hour passed before she noticed Toddy striding from the manor in her direction. Instead of sporting cricket whites, he now wore a handsomely tailored rowing ensemble instead.

“Changed my mind about the cricket. Never enough bloody time,” he grinned. “Perhaps we could go for another boat trip instead after I finish revealing my new acquisitions to you?

“Why, yes, that sounds wonderful,” Phryne pretended to smile in delight.

“But first, let me pick up something I’ve forgotten. I think I must have left it in my saddle.”

With a brief look at Lois and glance over her shoulder at Jack who had bent down to inspect his shoe at that moment, she took Toddy’s arm. Lois returned her look with the tiniest of nods before turning back to regale her conversation partner about one of her latest travel stories.

Phryne took Toddy’s proffered arm, and the two slowly wandered over to the stables. As he went to check his saddle, Phryne wandered down further to greet the lovely mane of the mare she had just taken out, talking to her with affection. The horse nuzzled her hand, looking for a treat, which Phryne bent over the stall to search for.

Just as she straightened herself out again, a large hand clamped over her mouth from behind. Instantly, she tried to whirl around and brought up her foot to stomp down hard on the attacker’s foot when she felt a hard cylindrical object pressed up against her back.

“Now, my dear _Miss Robins_ , you’ll do as I say or I won’t hesitate to lodge a bullet inside your beautiful back.”

He began to pull her deeper into the stables pressing the gun even harder against her as she attempted to resist his hold.

“You can start by keeping still!”

Pushing her face down into an empty stall, he knelt painfully against her back to gag her with his musty cravat before twisting her arms roughly behind her and securing them with some rope.

Fighting the rising dread building up inside her, she managed to turn her head slightly just as Toddingon-Barry pulled out a signet ring and pressed it against a corner of the stables wall, revealing another hidden door. Yanking her up painfully by her wig, which he threw aside into the straw with a curse, he pushed her ahead of him.

“You wanted to see my treasures? Well, come along then.”

Darkness shut out the light behind them with the slamming of the door.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave all of you hyperventilating with Phryne in danger! So here's an early morning post with lots of love from Atlanta! MUAH!

Grimacing slightly, Archie Jones pretended to distract himself with the hideous drink he had picked up on his way out of the marquee.

_Serves me right for tasting something that looks blue!_

Putting his glass down with disgust, he found himself humming under his breathe to the band’s catchy rendition of Cole Porter’s latest song as he approached the dancing platform. The singer’s voice wrapped about them with her silky voice:

“ _You do something to me,_ _something that simply mystifies me!_ ”

Carefully peering out from under his cricket cap, Jack tried not to glare towards one of the couples nearby. As they sauntered past, however, he struggled to hide his slight grin at the sight of Toddington-Barry attempting to lead Phryne unsuccessfully around the dance floor.

“ _Tell me, why should it be you have the power to hypnotize me_?”

Giving weight to the words, Jack’s eyes couldn’t help honing back in on Miss Fisher’s swaying figure as she sashayed to the lilting melody. Despite the myriad of emotional rubbish they had both managed to wade through over the past few days, he relished that particular moment.

It was oddly comforting being able to find himself back in his habitual place of quietly basking in her refreshing, and oftentimes frustrating antics, ready to step in and let her perch briefly before soaring off again to her next adventure. He enjoyed the thought that it was one of the ways he was able to share them with her in his own way.

“ _Let me live 'neath your spell, do, do that voodoo that you do so well…_ ”

That was before he had attempted to stop being a willing participant in what he now knew was more than just a disservice to her as a professional partner. He recognised now from her reactions towards him after discovering him in the crate that perhaps her own emotions and feelings concerning what he meant to her also ran more deeply than he could have hoped.

“ _For you do something to me that nobody else could do…_ ”

They still hadn’t had the opportunity yet, mostly due to the current investigation, to talk about what had happened. But, he knew now deep down that whether or not she wanted to reciprocate, he would be willing to face down his fears and show her how much she meant to him. Most likely until his dying day. No, he wouldn’t expect her to change, but he would challenge himself to do so because his love was a gift that he was willing to offer her for…well, for always. It was simply who he was.

The inspector forced himself to turn away slightly although his ears perked up when he overheard Toddington-Barry’s blatantly seductive tone asking Phryne to come view some treasure of his.

Jack then realised that he had begun gripping the cricket bat in his hand tightly, especially when that rogue had the audacity to start groping Miss Fisher after swinging her back into his arms. The inspector relaxed slightly, satisfied when she deftly pushed the other man away from her in time to the music, and swayed dramatically in Jack’s direction. Flicking her head over her shoulder, she pierced him with a look that he knew he would always cherish.

It was filled with a burst of delight at seeing him, and was tinged with a touch of vulnerability. In one glance, he knew that she was telling him she trusted him to be there for her...and with her.

_For always, Miss Fisher._

Willing his heart to remain stable and trying hard to not analyse that stray thought too much at the moment, Jack nodded quickly at Miss Fisher in acknowledgement. He then ambled towards the cricketers in the distance now whistling as the song ended. Noticing that Toddington-Barry had left on his own, and that Phryne had joined Lois, who had returned to the party and was deep in conversation with a group of ladies, Jack decided to join the match.

They were about half an hour into the first inning, when Jack observed Toddy’s return, and that the man now wore rowing clothes. Quickly bending down to hide his reaction by fiddling with his shoe, Jack tracked Toddington-Barry leading Phryne in the direction of the stables. The inspector stood suddenly and apologised to his teammates for having to leave, but his shoelace had broken and there was nothing for it, but to go fetch some new ones. He then strode away a good way before skirting around behind a garden folly.

Searching the crowd, Jack spotted Lois who was still tittering away at some morsel of gossip or other. Stepping away from his momentary hiding spot, the inspector caught her eye and tilted his chin in the direction of the stables with a wave of his bat to indicate she should follow him. The reporter winked at him to acknowledge she understood. She then rose suddenly making her excuses about needing the powder room.

Realising he could no longer spot Phryne, Jack willed his legs to speed up until a sudden sense of urgency spiked through his veins. Trusting his instincts, the inspector began to sprint towards the stables just as a loud crash echoed from deep inside.

 

*-*-*

 

Phryne was grateful for her ability to see well in dark environments as Toddington-Barry roughly pushed her ahead of him down one meandering corridor after another. This passageway closely resembled the one she and Lois has discovered with its various twists and turns. It also seemed to have less staircases, which made sense, she reasoned, considering the tunnel led down from the stables instead of up through the manor house like the other.

Eventually, she wasn’t too surprised when the final hidden door revealed the same cellar room from the previous night. Only this time, the entryway was closer to the outer door leading out to the tunnel and private dock where Lady Porta Edlington stood waiting.

“What is _she_ doing here?”

The normally simpering lady of the house hissed angrily when she saw her lover approach with the still struggling Fern Robins.

“I became suspicious when I found her snooping around the first evening, and thought I’d scared her off for good. Then, I’ve noticed her having more than a few tête-à-têtes with that Jones bloke you’re so fond of,” he retorted brusquely.

Portia narrowed her eyes at Phryne suspiciously at that revelation, prompting Toddy to barrel through with his explanations at a speedier pace.

“She also seems rather cosy with dear ol’ Alfie, who’s already enough of a loose cannon. Plus, she’s obviously up to no good pretending to be a blonde. Can’t risk leaving a loose end behind after all.”

He fingered a strand of her naturally dark silky hair at that last comment, earning a well-aimed backwards kick to the shins. He instantly retaliated by jabbing the end of his gun painfully into her back again, and pushing her towards a barge that was now moored by the dock outside the opened outer door.

“Well, I don’t like this _at all_ ,” Portia spat out in reply, her eyes glaring jealously at the other woman.

“I’m afraid we’re at the point where your desires can no longer dictate our agenda, my dear. Not unless you want to be left behind with darling Harold in this old dump...or worse.”

By now, Toddington-Barry and Phryne had reached the edge of the dock. He forced her to board the barge before throwing her roughly down against one of the larger crates towards the end. She managed to save her head from connecting to the edge of it just at the last moment, but pretended to be unconscious as he began to tie her ankles together tightly with a coil of rope. Seeing her lying still, he stood and poked around some of the sealed crates around before disembarking and continuing his quarrel with the loudly protesting Lady Edlington.

Suddenly hearing a slight scratching sound next to hear head, Phryne glanced at the others before rolling over slowly into a crouching position. Peeking around the corner of it as best as she could, she was startled to find a bound and gagged Alfie lying behind it hidden from view.

Noticing that her friend’s hands were bound in front, she leaned back slightly, trying to grab at bunches of her skirt. Flicking the hem aside, she managed to reveal her hidden dagger. Alfie’s eyes widened, but he nodded to show her he understood, inching his way closer and reaching out his tied hands to retrieve the weapon.

While the two others continued to argue loudly, Alfie methodically sliced through the rope binding Phryne’s arms. Feeling the hold on her arms gradually grow lax, she quickly freed her hands and rubbed against the rope burns of her wrist before snatching the knife and freeing Alfie’s bonds. She ripped the abhorrent gag off and threw it overboard before freeing Alfie from his bonds and signalling for him to remain quiet as she crept slowly towards the dock.

Picking up the barge pole, she froze in shocked anger when she realised they were discussing Archie Jones.

“Well, we have no choice, Portia, because he managed to escape somehow, and he’s obviously seen too much!”

“But, he never saw you. And there is no way he can link me to any of this. Why can’t we just go away now as we planned? No one need know!”

“No! It’s too risky, Portia. Therefore, your new ponce needs to be eliminated. You need to go back to the party, and use your wiles and concoction on him like you did with the others without his wife or anyone else noticing. You need to do it _now_!”

“ _Noooooooo_!”

Before either of them could react, Phryne exploded onto the dock in all her fury. Wielding the barge pole like a possessed ninja with her wooden bo, she swung it low in an arc towards the two criminals. Portia looked up in panic as the pole knocked her off balance and straight off the side of the dock into the water with a huge splash. Toddington-Barry, whose reflexes were a lot more honed, quickly jumped back out of the way and again whipped his gun towards her after quickly regaining his balance.

“I never could stand a woman who was overly resourceful,” he growled as he clicked the safety of his gun back.

“Then, by all means, don’t stand on ceremony for our sakes!” Lois Lane angrily shouted suddenly from behind the cellar’s door.

Jonathan Toddington-Barry jerked his head in the direction of her voice just as Jack Robinson emerged from behind a nearby crate, whacking the scoundrel quite soundly with his cricket bat. With a loud crunch, the fiend fell with a crash as Lois appeared with her recovered crowbar dangerously poised. Jack pounced on the man, and kneed him to the ground, confiscating the criminal’s gun and handcuffing him roughly.

Before he could recite the man’s rights, a volley of torchlight, lamps and shouts instantly flooded the dank room and into the tunnel as Constable Collins, and multiple other officers began arriving on the scene. With a wave, Hugh began issuing instructions for them to start checking the crates before he joined his superior officer on the dock. Clark had suddenly appeared on the barge where he was propping up a beleaguered Alfie who had passed out.

Phryne lowered the barge pole back down into the water for Portia Edlington to grab hold of just as Lois arrived to help pull her out of the water. Clark set Alfie down to drape his livery jacket around the woman’s sopping frame as Jack approached with another pair of handcuffs.

“Why, Archie, I’m ever so glad you were able to come when you did! You’ve rescued me from that scoundrel! I can’t believe he was _using_ me!”

Jack nodded for Collins to take the woman into custody just as she tried to grab his arm.

“Save it for your interview at the station, Lady Edlington. Which is where my men will be taking you straight away.”

“But, Archie!”

“My name is Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, madam,” he stated with deadly calm, moving out of her grasp as Hugh led her away towards the second passageway door.

Quickly walking over to Phryne, Jack looked her over from head to toe. Satisfied that she didn’t seem to be outwardly injured at least, he enfolded her into a tight and relieved embrace.

“After all, only one person is allowed to call me ‘Archie,’” he whispered for her ears alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t resist working in the fabulous lyrics to Cole Porter’s song, “You Do Something to Me” that Jack was humming and whistling along to:
> 
> You do something to me  
> Something that simply mystifies me  
> Tell me, why should it be  
> You have the power to hypnotize me?
> 
> Let me live 'neath your spell  
> Do, do that voodoo that you do so well  
> For you do something to me  
> That nobody else could do
> 
> Let me live 'neath your spell  
> Do, do that voodoo that you do so well  
> For you do something to me  
> That nobody else could do
> 
> That nobody else could do


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our dynamic investigators interview all the suspects and solve the case!

Despite being surrounded by the slightly peeling paint of its tired walls, Phryne glowed with satisfaction at finding herself once again beside Jack in one of the interview rooms at City South Station. It wasn’t so much the locale that spurred her sense of contentment, but the fact that she felt a vindicated sense of restitution. This was one of the areas where she and Jack thrived and belonged.

Together.

Accomplishing one of the things that they did best together: restoring justice.

Bit by bit, and with the insightful assistance of two world-class investigative reporters, the two detectives were able to extract and piece together the entire sordid saga from their interesting array of suspects.

It had all begun in London initially, at a private celebration hosted by the newly minted Lady Portia Edlington and her husband, Lord Harold Edlington. The affair was meant to launch the new antiquities business of a Mr Jonathan “Toddy” Toddington-Barry. Toddy had the idea of catering to the latest fad of acquiring Egyptian objects by selling affordable reproductions to the mainstream buyer. As an avid collector herself, Portia felt it was her philanthropic duty to support her old family friend in his new endeavour.

What they didn’t account for, however, was the attendance of one Lord James Alfred “Alfie” Asquith, Viscount Severn, whose love and expertise in all things ancient Egyptian was renown in all circles. Alfie’s practiced eye immediately honed in on the fact that Toddington-Barry’s marketable reproductions also contained some authentic pieces that had not yet been made known to the archaeological world. Following the dinner, Toddy had then managed to convince Alfie to maintain his silence and not go to police by offering the viscount first refusals for one of the authenticated pieces.  

“How could I _not_ refuse?” he had tried to explain to his friend and her stoic inspector whose unyielding gaze never let up from his leaning perch against the window sill. “He also told me that it would break Portia’s heart if I ruined this new shared enterprise of her, and I couldn’t bear to be the cause of that.”

Phryne had blinked a message to Jack at this point to confirm the fact that Lord Severn had always had a bit of a soft spot for the lady in question. Inspector Robinson acknowledged this with a tell-tale look of his own that stated how he could certainly empathise with the viscount’s plight.

Meanwhile, it transpired that the not-so-fragile Portia Edlington had already long been using her charms to bluff their paperwork by using her husband’s signet ring and forged signature to gloss things over with customs agents across the world. That was until the American senator had gotten a little too close to the truth at a major antiquities show in New York City. It was then that Toddington-Barry had convinced her ladyship to poison the government official during the Edington’s honeymoon wedding tour in the US, which was later attributed to the politician’s known struggles with a weak heart condition.

What they hadn’t counted on was two investigative reporters from the Daily Planet catching wind of this potential cover-up through their well-placed inside sources. Or that the two of them would eventually follow the newlywed couple back to Australia.

“Besides, dear Harold was only too keen to distance us from the scandal, and it was simple for me to convince him to use his connections to sort things out without any of it having to come to public light,” Portia had shrugged off her actions without any remorse whatsoever.

Portia had always known that her family was planning to marry her off to the stuffy nobleman with his title, high government connections and aspirations. But, none of them ever took her intelligence seriously, so she quickly learned to keep up her debutante façade whilst manipulating people and situations to her own advantage. The woman also had a major weakness for rubies. Thus, the fact that the world of Egyptian artifacts contained a lot of the red gemstones, as well as a lot of handsome men lured her in.

So it was quite a simple matter for her and Toddington-Barry to blackmail Alfie eventually for accepting the smuggled item. So long as he promised to keep quiet and help authenticate pieces on demand to fudge their value through his antiquities dealings. What they never counted on him doing, however, was to approach the Honourable Phryne Fisher, lady detective, in his attempts to get out of their hold.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Phryne,” the viscount had broken down with his normally immaculate hair in disarray as he ran his hands through it dejectedly. “I should have told you the entire truth…but I didn’t want to become implicated. Which was why I went to you in the first place.”

He looked up with a guilty expression before continuing with a gloomy expression. “I was even more delighted to learn that your inspector wouldn’t be investigating with you since I didn’t want the police sniffing about again. I thought you could solve it and free me from my enforced involvement.”

“Oh, Alfie,” Phryne had shaken her head at her friend. “You do realise that Inspector Robinson will still have to press charges against you for your willing part to take place in fraudulent activity. Hopefully, that will be all that you will be implicated with.”

After discovering that Harold expected her to accompany him to the Antipodes to maintain residence indefinitely at his family’s estate outside Melbourne, Lady Edlington knew she had to act fast. She wasn’t about to melt away on the ends of the earth without her pretty playthings, and kept her ears cocked for some way to scheme herself out of this latest turn of her future.

“Harold always loved to tell me stories about his mouldy ancestors being smugglers and pirates back in the day. He kept going on and on about all this nonsense about maze-like passageways and cloak and dagger rings unlocking hidden doors,” Portia had rolled her eyes belligerently.

Bored from the excruciatingly long steamship journey over, she learned all that she could about the Edlington family’s colonial history. Upon arrival, she quizzed some of the ancient servants under the believable guise of wanting to learn all she could about the family she had married into. That was when she discovered that there was some truth to Harold’s ramblings. There was, in fact, still an unused tunnel leading from under the house that connected to a shipping route. It was simple enough to make a replica of her husband’s signet ring and to work out the location of the hidden passageway where her plan kicked into motion.

She immediately plotted with her long-time associate and lover to use the cover of the upcoming, annual Melbourne Fair to put their plan into motion. Toddington-Barry had, by that point, acquired another collection of mixed reproductions during a recent trek to Egypt that he needed to ship to a lesser known locale. Together, he convinced Portia to get the paperwork approved to ship their latest goods after inviting and seducing Robert Galway, who was one of the government’s key decision-makers for Australia’s import and exporting policies at that time. Unfortunately, he too, had begun to ask her far too many questions about her husband’s so-called requests. Considering the high-profiled nature of their guest list, they couldn’t risk Harold catching wind of their smuggling racket using his name. Thus, Toddington-Barry again was able to convince her to slip the former Member of Parliament his fatal cup of tea before the evening began. It took little effort for Toddy to stash the poor man’s corpse into the sarcophagi just before the evening’s events commenced.

Perhaps empowered by the fact he had enlisted an unwitting ally to his cause, Alfie sought out his blackmailers to gloat. He became angry, however, when he found them in a blatantly compromising situation just before the auction. He confronted them and tempers escalated resulting in the two men engaging in an extremely ridiculous wrestling match that resulted in Alfie inadvertently shoving Toddy up against the sarcophagi that tipped over to reveal its current secret.

Later that night, Toddington-Barry had returned to place Lord Edlington’s signet ring (of which he and Portia had had an exact replica made) into the stone sarcophagus. It was their way of planting suspicion and evidence to frame Portia’s husband for the murder. At least, that was the plan until an unwitting lady detective had happened upon the scene in the middle of that first night.

“We would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for damn Severn,” Toddington-Barry had spat out angrily. “Or for your damn meddling!” His eyes narrowed menacingly towards Phryne who calmly responded by kicking him hard under the table, intentionally missing her true target. She was tempted to aim again towards the centre, when Jack’s grip on her hand beneath the table helped to stem the rushing tide of horrific memories from that ghastly night.

Jack, however, had not bothered to hide his anger at the despicable man after he finished taking his statement. Once again, the inspector roughly cuffed the villain before handing him over to Constable Collins to drag him down to the cells.

 

*-*-*

 

“I can hardly believe they hoped to get away with using the premier event to pin the murders on her husband, the smuggling on Lord Severn, and then escaping with their new loot?” Lois had shaken her head in wonder after they had completed all the interviews and had gathered in Jack’s office.

Afterwards, Lady Edlington and Lord Severn had also been locked up in their cells awaiting their solicitors and their fates. Jack had made no promises, but did reassure Phryne that her friend’s outcome wouldn’t be as dire as the others since he didn’t have any knowledge relating to the two murders. Alfie had also been most forthcoming in during his interview, and more than willing to cooperate further should more information need to be confirmed.

Miss Fisher beamed regally like a queen who had just been reinstated to her rightful throne on the corner of the inspector’s desk.

“They never had a clue they would be investigated by not just one, but two of the world’s best investigative teams, after all!” she agreed with the reporter’s sentiments.

Miss Fisher then added soberly, “Although, in spite of it all, I can’t help feeling slightly sad for Portia. A woman should never feel she must be forced to hide her intelligence. But, it is still utterly inexcusable when she deliberately attempted to use her abilities to justify taking another’s life.”

“I agree!” Lois emphatically nodded, causing her hair to swing about. “At the end of the day, we all still have a choice, including Lady Edlington. It’s what we decide that makes all the difference.”

“I believe I was correct in my earlier assessment, although I may have to amend it slightly,” Jack had added drily. “No villainous man or _woman_ stands a chance when you two are on the case!”

Clark had simply guffawed knowingly in agreement, thumping Jack on the shoulder in solidarity, and earning his own punch to the shoulder by a bemused Lois.

“You must both come to dinner this evening so that we can celebrate the end of this case,” Phryne had invited the other couple to Wardlow.

“Well, now that we’ve filed our story, Chief’s expecting us back at the Planet soon as we can,” Lois had informed them.

“But, please know that you always have an open invitation to visit us anytime you find yourselves in Metropolis,” Clark had cordially added.

Accepting eagerly, Phryne then asked when they would be sailing back to America.

Lois had then immediately sprung to her feet, turning to give her partner and fiancé a wink before linking her arm through his.

“Oh, that would take forever,” Lois had smirked. “So, we’ll be flying instead.” She then started to march them towards the door.

“We should visit them sometime,” Jack commented casually without looking up from his paperwork. “Perhaps whenever they do sort out their wedding plans. I’ve a feeling Clark will need some moral support.”

He ducked his head playfully at the gloved hand reaching out to swat at him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And what case would be complete without a Phrack night cap?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know...THREE chapters in two days? Don't spoil your appetites! 
> 
> Well, please let it be my gift to you all for helping me survive this week away with your brilliant, ego-boosting, guffaw-inducing, and heart-warming comments! 
> 
> I’d also like to give a major shout-out and great big Superman-sized hugs to @comeaftermejackrobinson who lovingly previewed and proofread every single chapter of this project! I’m forever grateful for her daily inspiration, encouragement and feedback for my writing process and zany Phrack ideas!
> 
> Finally, massive kudos to you all for joining me on this challenging and fun journey of writing my first case fic, whether you have been following along in real time or have been able to read it all in one fell swoop!
> 
> Who knows, I may already have another one or two brewing!

 

His eyes drank in the way the lights highlighted the sheen of her raven hair. As lovely as Fern Robins had been with her feathery, golden curls, Jack much preferred Miss Fisher with her jaunty, dark bob that framed her magnificent face and accentuated her sparkling eyes so well. Now, she _looked_ like “his” Phryne again.

“And that makes me the winner…again! Jack dear, you could at least try to make this mildly challenging tonight!” Phryne waved one of the draughts pieces in a teasing pout in front of his face.

“I’m sorry, Miss Fisher,” he responded with his slight smile as he leaned back slightly. “I do believe my stomach has been punishing me for depriving myself of Mr Butler’s amazing culinary skills by taking hostage of my mental abilities this evening.”

“Well, so long as it’s just that, and not some residual damage as a result of your head injury,” Phryne was instantly on her feet and by his side in nurse mode as her nimble fingers lightly examined his head.

“My head is fine, Phryne,” Jack growled contentedly, leaning his head back against her with a little sigh and closing his eyes to relish the sensations. “But, by all means, do continue.”

Satisfied that his wound was healing nicely, she pressed an affectionate kiss to his temple before sliding herself onto his lap. His arms encircled her waist although he remained in his relaxed pose, his eyes still closed. She traced her fingers around his tie, giving it a playful tug.

“Is this new, Jack? Or have you borrowed one of Archie’s? I must say, it was certainly a feast for the eyes to see you arrayed in so many of Mr Jones’ gorgeous sartorial choices!”

Jack peeked an eye open to give her a pointed stare. “I may or may not have requisitioned one or two items from his recent wardrobe.”

“Oh, so does that mean I might have the pleasure of encountering the great Ramses again some time? Wasn’t it so thrilling at the masquerade, when everyone had the opportunity to play someone else for a spell?”

Phryne looped her arms around his neck and leaned back slightly to see his face more clearly when he tensed slightly, but didn’t respond.

“Jack?” she asked gently knowing that he seemed worried about something, and patiently waiting for him to share when he was ready.

Jack lifted his head and opened his eyes to return her steady gaze that held utmost trust and something deeper that nestled down deep down inside of his him. He knew that he needed to trust her with his thoughts and feeling as well instead of locking them away. He needed to face his fear of losing her. He tightened his hold around her as her eyes continued to invite him to enter into that inner sanctum where hearts and souls could be bared with no repercussions.

“Phryne, I was so horrified when I first discovered that you had returned to the estate that first night. I had had a nightmare about you being captured, and it nearly took it out of me when I found you trapped inside that sarcophagus.” He paused to steady the panic that still shot up his spine at the memory. She moved a comforting hand to frame the side of his jaw and began stroking it when she sensed his distress.

“Then, this afternoon at the garden party. I felt this sudden urgency when I couldn’t see you and that bastard after he had led you away. I had just arrived and rushed inside the stables after hearing the crash. My heart was clogging my throat when I saw that there had been a struggle. I couldn’t feel my insides when I saw your handbag and discarded wig in the tussled straw.”

She was now making gentle soothing noises, and holding his face with both of her hands, willing him to continue and allow her to share the burden of his terror from that moment.

“Then, I ran towards the end of the building where I heard the crash and was so frantic. I kept trying to press and hit the brickwork, but nothing would budge. I felt so helpless until Lois arrived, and quickly worked out the sequence. She then pulled out Edlington’s signet ring from her handbag and used it to unlock the door.”

Phryne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and nuzzled her head against his neck. She pressed her lips against his visibly beating pulse. “Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry I worried you, darling. I knew you would come after me though.”

“I dread to think what could have happened if any of us hadn’t arrived when we did.”

“I know, Jack. But, the point is that you did, and we apprehended the suspects and have put them away.”

“It still doesn’t make it easy. I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt, Phryne.”

She sat up then to look straight into his face again with a full measure of her usual defiance and fire kindling her expression.

“The feeling is quite mutual, Inspector! How do you think I felt when _you_ went missing? And then having to enlist the assistance of your so-called _wife_ , whom I still didn’t know whether I could trust at that point, to go looking for you? Only to discover you bleeding and unconscious at the bottom of a crate?”

Jack leaned forward then, connecting his forehead against hers, running his strong hands up and down her back in reassurance.

“I’m sorry, Phryne. I should have let you or Lois know. Or taken Clark with me. Who knows what would have happened if none of you had managed to work out where I had gone.”

She leaned into him with a long, hard kiss in response, channelling all her frustrations from the case into savouring this moment knowing they were both safe and together again where they belonged.

“Well,” she panted breathily after they had emerged. “I suppose that perhaps subterfuge isn’t always the most thrilling thing after all.”

“Agreed, Miss Fisher. I believe I have had my fill of costumes for quite a while. There doesn’t seem to be any point anyway.”

 _Especially when there’s someone I can’t quite fool_ , he thought with a secretive smile.

Phryne returned her fingers to Jack’s tie, this time, completely undoing it and sliding it out from under his collar in a smooth, yet playful movement. She quirked her eyebrows at him as her eyes widened in seemingly sudden inspiration.

“Are you sure you’ve gone off _all_ costumes, Jack?”

He responded with a questioning glint in his eye.

“I’m only asking,” she started innocently, trailing her fingers down to unbutton his collar and then start on the top ones of his shirt, “because I told Dot that I would give her a hand in clearing out a few things from the loft. For the next charity drive that Aunt Prudence is doing.”

Jack looked down to watch as she began undoing his waistcoat. “That includes our lovely Antony and Cleopatra costumes that I just haven’t been able to part with quite yet.”

“You don’t say, Miss Fisher.”

“In fact, I’ve had them brought down today so they could air out in my boudoir…” she innocently began to peel off his jacket from his shoulders.

She gasped in surprise when Jack stood up suddenly, steadying her tightly against him so she wouldn’t stumble. He didn’t object when she slipped the rest of his suit jacket and dropped it to the floor behind him.

“Well, far be it from me to stand in the way of charity.”

“I definitely agree, Inspector. Shall we?”

“Lead the way, Miss Fisher.”

And with that, the lady detective pulled her inspector towards the stairs. Leaving a small trail of clothing behind them all the way up to her boudoir, the door quickly closed with much haste.

The time for revealing all the rest of their secrets had only just begun.

 


End file.
